#lyrically that song is fine its just that the rest of the playlist is sad indie shit so it fucks with the vibes a bit

[rotisseries]

i think my zelink playlist is my only good one like this shit is devastating genuinely

#the one exception on there being I would do anything for love by meatloaf #which is a classic case of “I like this song so much that I'm gonna black out and insist it goes here anyway even if it maybe doesn't” #lyrically that song is fine its just that the rest of the playlist is sad indie shit so it fucks with the vibes a bit #anyway this post is kind of a lie my el and max ones are also good and also probably better than the zelink one #it's just that 99 percent of the time if I make a character/ship/feeling playlist I get like 4 songs in it #go “hmm I'll work on this more another time” and never touch it again. so. most of them suck #and that's part of the reason my entire spotify profile is private #but the zelink one. well it's technically also not done to me hence why I made it in may and then never sent it to gloomy #hi gloomy sorry gloomy #but it's like 2 hours long which in retrospect is I think a normal length for playlists but not to me not if it's you #2 hours is normal if you curate that shit I don't curate my ideal playlist is an 8 hour monstrosity with every song #that even briefly induces character feelings #so um. georgia by phoebe bridgers though #anyway I was actually listening to the zelink playlist today bc I was thinking about ANOTHER couple. um😐 #and it was genuinely getting rancid awful radioactive in my brain so I was like “FUCK THIS!! I NEED TO THINK ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE” #and forcibly induced a zelink breakdown #prescribed 500 ml of zelinkism to combat The Diseases

[taetaespeaches]

bts inspired by random 70s classic rock songs I like

bts x reader (ocs) genre: fluff; suggestive in jimin and jungkook’s word count: 4,858

a/n: Hi lovelies! I was listening to a few of my favorite 70s classic rock songs the other day and felt inspired to do some drabbles/blurbs based on them. So here we are! Something that no one asked for! Each one of these drabbles features or is inspired by a different 70s rock song. Some of them get a bit long bc I can’t shut up but anyways! I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading :))

Also! Here’s a spotify playlist with the seven songs featured in these drabbles: where the melody’s fine

seokjin x reader (oc) song: I Want You To Want Me, Cheap Trick word count: 500+

I want you to want me I need you to need me I'd love you to love me I'd shine up the old brown shoes, I'd put on a brand-new shirt I'd get home early from work if you say that you love me

He’s so pretty as he rests his head against the couch’s headrest, his face tilted toward you as you burn through topics. It’s as though you both don’t want to stop hearing each other’s thoughts pour out into the cozy living room. Music hums from your phone that’s discarded on the coffee table, lost in the midst of the affection shared for one another.

You’re sitting on your knees which are directed toward him, one arm slung over the back of the sofa, the other in your lap as you admire the man’s features. “I didn’t know you were such a classic rock fan,” he announces suddenly, lifting his hand to tap the outside of your thigh as he brings attention to the phone. You hum in response, smiling softly.

“It’s because I’m so mysterious,” you tease, watching as Jin flashes you a lazy grin. He knows of the label so commonly thrusted onto you by people who simply didn’t understand you. Mysterious. It followed you for years, making you feel lonely when all you wanted was to be wanted, needed, loved.

Tsking at you, Jin shakes his head. “I don’t think you’re so mysterious,” he smirks.

“No?” You ask, eyes widened and full of fondness.

“I see you,” he tells you simply.

Tilting your head to rest it against your arm, you smile at him. The grin is full of appreciation and adoration, your heart brimming so full with both emotions that you can feel them flow into your tummy, your limbs, your fingertips aching to touch him.

The upbeat pop sound of I Want You To Want Me by Cheap Trick plays throughout the room as Jin’s bright eyes stare at you. Unable to resist, you reach out to toy with the ends of his soft strands.

“This song used to make me sad,” you share, Jin’s eyebrows raising in question. He’s anticipating your explanation while your digits delve into the smooth tendrils.

“Come on,” he encourages as you gently scratch your nails against his roots, Seokjin’s eyelids briefly fluttering shut at the sensation. “Tell me.”

“I don’t know, it sounds happy but,” you shrug. “It’s in how he sings ‘crying’,” you explain. “Didn’t I see you crying?” you repeat the lyrics. You watch as Seokjin’s eyebrows pull together just slightly in thought, his lips forming into a natural pout. “There’s a desperation.”

He gives a slow nod as a sincere emotional response etches its way into his features. You focus on the curve of Jin’s jaw below his ear as it clenches and relaxes throughout the song, your finger following the pulse and dragging down to his neck before traveling back and forth on his jaw. The touch is light but his throat bobs in response to it.

“I don’t want you to be lonely ever again,” he whispers, as you shift your hand to cradle the side of his face. Jin leans into the touch, placing his palm overtop yours to keep you there. Turning his head slightly, he kisses the inside of your wrist. “Ever,” he adds for good measure.

“I’m not anymore,” you tell him before crawling toward him to settle yourself against his body.

yoongi x reader (oc) song: The Man In Me, Bob Dylan  word count: 700+

But, oh, what a wonderful feeling Just to know that you are near Sets my heart a-reeling From my toes up to my ears

Yoongi taps his pointer finger against the bottom of the steering wheel as a rough voice singing a melody of “la, la, la’s” plays through the car speakers. He leans forward to look up through the windshield at your apartment complex, wondering if you’re ever coming down.

It was very much like you to be running just a few minutes late, which you blame on your habit of confusing the time you need to be somewhere with the time you should leave the house. ‘You should set your clocks fifteen minutes ahead,’ Yoongi has suggested before, earning a ‘I’d just remind myself that they’re fifteen minutes ahead and then since I’m bad at math I would end up being extra late because I wouldn’t be able to figure out what time it really is,’ in return. Yoongi smiles to himself in the cab of his car, amused by the memory.

Just as he re-accepts his fate in which you’re late for the rest of your lives and settles back into his seat with a huff, he begins registering the lyrics that Bob Dylan croons out to him. ‘The man in me will hide sometimes to keep from bein' seen, but that’s just because he doesn’t want to turn into some machine. Took a woman like you to get through to the man in me.’

He doesn’t realize it, but he’s smiling at the car’s touch screen as his mind sifts through thoughts of you like a film reel. In a montage, you’re screaming because of a spider, then you’re crying as you read a book, you’re initiating a pillow fight, you’re watering your dying irises with a pout and a hope that they’ll recover, you’re brushing your hands through his hair while he rests his head in your lap, and then you’re asleep on his studio couch, your face squished adorably against the cushions. It’s all so beautiful, he thinks.

He’s mentally thanking you for every memory, for being the person to get through to him, for getting under his skin and never letting up as he stares at the sepia album cover displayed on the dash screen. You pull his focus when he catches you walking through the doors of your apartment building, already waving at him as you wear a bright smile. Yoongi waves back, chuckling at how you begin skipping toward him.

Then you stop and spin a couple times, stretching your arms out at your sides and directing your face toward the moonlit sky. The light breeze picks up a strand of your hair, sending it across your cheeks, and Yoongi can’t help but notice how pretty you are when you reach for it and tuck it behind your ear. Your tote bag that rests over your forearm smacks against your thigh as you begin jogging toward the car, still beaming happily.

The door of Yoongi’s car is ungracefully torn open, your bag dropping to the floor. “It’s so nice out tonight,” you announce before stepping inside, appreciating the nighttime air. Yoongi watches as you do so, giving you your time to be you. “Sorry I’m late,” you then apologize as you plop into your seat, leaning over the console to kiss the man, not a second of time with each other wasted. Yoongi is slow to react but you wait for his lips to press into yours before you pull away and grab your seatbelt. He simply shakes his head as he stares at you for a moment, his expression dripping in that honey boy affection you love and love to tease him for. “What?” You ask as you find him frozen instead of pulling out onto the street. “Uh oh, you’re extra in love tonight.”

Shaking his head with a scoff, he slowly turns his focus toward driving to avoid meeting your eyes. Before pulling out onto the street, however, he quietly lifts his finger to the car’s touch screen and replays the song. “Ooh, Bob Dylan,” you notice his small action, calling attention to it.

“I’m gonna learn this song on the guitar,” he decides, glancing over at you as you study him. When your lips curve into a fond grin, he knows you know that the comment is a veiled dedication. He wants you to hear this song, to know it’s for you. You know him too well.

“I can’t wait to hear it,” you simply say as you reach your hand out to turn the song up. Instead of returning your hand to your lap, you extend it over the console to find his, Yoongi easily allowing you to intertwine your fingers with his own.

hoseok x reader (oc) song: Right Down The Line, Gerry Rafferty word count: 500+

I know how much I lean on you Only you can see The changes that I've been through Have left a mark on me You've been as constant as a Northern Star The brightest light that shines It's been you, woman Right down the line

Hoseok enters the art studio, his eyes easily landing on you from across the room as a smooth 70s classic rock song fills his ears. You’re oblivious to his presence and he takes the moment to watch you as you pull your hands up the bulbous form, lifting the clay between your fingers. The singer of the song sings about a woman being a constant in his life, ‘the brightest light that shines, it’s been you, woman, right down the line.’

The lyrics hit him in the chest, deepening the appreciation he already feels for you. You didn’t plan to see each other tonight but after his stressful day, he just wanted to hear your voice. You sensed the edge in his tone over the phone and asked him to come see you in the art studio under the veil of missing him, taking the guilt of crashing your plans off his shoulders before it could even settle.

As he watches you create, he wonders if you realize how much you mean to him. You’re so alluring, you always have been. He nearly laughs at how you’ve always been completely irresistible to him, the man making a fool of himself time and time again as he tried to earn a chance with you from the first night you met. But it’s more than that. You’ve acted as a pillar of support and devotion in his life and he’s unsure he’ll ever be able to show you just how much he appreciates you. Do you even know how much you do for him?

Like a gravitational pull, he can’t keep himself from stepping closer to you, allowing you to catch him in the corner of your eye. Looking over the freshly thrown pot, you greet him with a soft smile. “Hi, Sunshine,” your voice soothes out to him as you sit up straight in your seat.

You need to feel it, he decides. You need to feel how much he loves you, how desperately he wants you, how sincerely he appreciates you. Hoseok chooses not to respond with words, instead making his way across the room quickly and not stopping until he stands right beside you, getting as close to you as he can without stomping right over the wet clay.

You look up at him with wide eyes, surprise written in your expression as he grabs your face between his hands and bends to plant his lips to yours in a needy, sentimental kiss. He smiles at the whimper you let out, and then the giggle that tumbles from your mouth to his.

“Hoseok,” you whine into the meeting, holding your hands out to your sides to avoid getting clay on him. He pulls back just enough to look at your face.

“Hi,” he smiles, eliciting an eye roll from you.

“I’m defenseless,” you playfully complain, nodding to your clay-covered hands as he still cradles your face.

“I thought you missed me,” he retorts teasingly, flashing his stunning smile while the song still plays, the guitar soothing throughout the space.

Smirking at him, you wrap your messy hands over his bare wrists, the man smiling gleefully in amusement. “I did,” you whisper, leaning forward and kissing him again.

namjoon x reader (oc) song: (Love Me Like Music) I’ll Be Your Song, Heart word count: 600+

When you get free come on home to me I’m gonna lay it down

Ain't it good to know you've got a place to go Where the melody's fine Sometimes I'm not so strong And even now I could be wrong But if you love me like music I'll be your song

When Namjoon steps into the kitchen, you’re holding a bottle of whiskey in one hand and two glasses by the rims in the other. You flash him an apologetic frown and Namjoon lets out a single breathy chuckle. Lifting his arm, you see the bag of takeout he’s carrying, and you feel the tension in your muscles melt.

You were both angry when you left the apartment that morning, in the midst of a fight you didn’t have time to finish. Now, after the hellish day you had, the fight felt so silly and pointless. All day you thought of him, your place to go, your person to love. You could start the day anew in his arms, and that’s all you wanted to do now.

You crack a smile at his gesture of goodwill as you place the glasses onto the counter top. “Long day?” You ask, popping the lid off the bottle. Namjoon reciprocates your affection with a small upturn of his own lips.

Giving you a single nod, he steps toward you, placing the bag onto the island and staring at you intently. “You too?”

In lieu of answering, you allow your eyes to look up and down his frame as your shoulders slump in defeat. He’s so broad, so strong, so comforting as he stands in front of you. You inhale deeply and let it out in a disappointed huff, the man reading the action for exactly what it is: regret for the morning’s events, for the anger, the fight that no longer matters because he’s standing right there and you just want him.

Namjoon reaches for your hip, tugging you into him as he takes a step forward to meet you halfway. Your arms wrap around his waist in an instant as he envelops your shoulders with his muscular ones. “I’m sorry,” you whisper into his chest, Namjoon’s hands rubbing up and down the outsides of your arms.

“I know, I’m sorry too,” he tells you. “My day is already better now that I’m here.”

“Mine too,” you mumble into his chest, the scent of his cologne embracing you. The beat of his heart is lulling you into a relaxed state, a pretty melody just for you. There’s a special love that Namjoon dedicates to you, and it’s full of grace and forgiveness, understanding and interest. It’s similar to the loyalty and devotion he has for music. He treats you like music, something to take care of, figure out, love and understand. He’s never given up on you, always offering you a home to settle into. You aren’t sure he knows what a gift it is to receive his easy forgiveness, but you hope he does.

You feel content this close to him, and he knows it. He feels it in the way your body lightens in his arms. Namjoon chuckles into your hair, his hands gripping your biceps as he pulls away from you to shoot you a small dimpled grin.

“Don’t get sleepy on me, we have whiskey to drink,” he teases you as you squeeze the sides of his abdomen adoringly.

Letting out a quick exhale, you shake out the tiredness and flash a beam at him. “And takeout,” you nod to the bags of food. Turning to the counter, you grab the bottle to pour you and your lover a much needed drink.

Namjoon leaves an arm slung over your shoulders as he watches the alcohol fill the glasses. Pressing his lips to your temple, you find yourself leaning into the touch as he lingers for just a moment.

“I love you,” he whispers earnestly against your skin. “Through it all.”

jimin x reader (oc) song: Beast Of Burden, The Rolling Stones word count: 700+

I'll never be your beast of burden So let's go home and draw the curtains Music on the radio Come on, baby, make sweet love to me

You’ve been careful. But Jimin has been afraid. While you’ve been conscientious, allowing the pace of your reunion to follow Jimin’s lead, Jimin has been holding back. You’ve felt it in the way he hesitates before wrapping his arms around your frame. The way he stops himself from kissing you, unsure of whether it’s ok to do that now. After he hurt you. After he did you, himself, and your relationship wrong.

You feel it now in the kitchen, the same one you shared your first kiss in, as he stands beside you but a few feet out of reach. He’s propping himself up with his elbows against the island, and though his body is tilted toward you, he’s keeping himself closed off. He’s tentative to love you the way you know he wants to, and your waist is aching from the lack of his touch.

“We should go on a date tomorrow,” he tests, wading out into the waters, scared of how far he can step before it’s too far.

“That sounds great,” you nod, noting the relief that floods his features as he raises his eyebrows.

“Really?” The question, a plea for reassurance, catches you off guard. Of course you should go on a date, and you wonder how long your presence will act as a reminder to the mistake he made. The breakup was his doing, but you chose to forgive, to leave it in the past. You don’t want it following him around every time he looks at you. You refuse to be his beast of burden, reminding him of a single memory of regret when there were so many other memories of more importance, full of love and friendship and absolute devotion.  

Jimin glances at your arms that are crossed over your ribcage and you realize he’s looking for an in but can’t find it, your demeanor pushing him away. He doesn’t know you’re waiting for him to lead the way. He can’t feel the heaviness in your heart that begs to be cradled by him in the way he used to: uninhibited with undying sincerity, every emotion bared on his shoulder for you to witness and hold.

“Jimin,” you sigh, lowering your arms to your sides, opening up, inviting him in. “Of course it sounds great.” You can read the eagerness in his face as you travel the few steps to him, crossing the divide until you close the space between you both. Jimin stands up straight, his hands hesitating to reach out to you, so you do it for him. “I miss you,” you tell him as you brush his cheek with your knuckles.

He exhales in response to your touch, his eyelids fluttering slightly. “I-I’m right here,” he replies quietly.

“Are you?”

Jimin’s eyes bounce around your features almost frantically, searching for an appropriate reply.

“Don’t you miss me?” You ask, lowering your voice suddenly to give it a sultry appearance. Lifting your hand, you push his feathery fringe off his forehead, only for it to fall back in place when you remove your hand to settle it on his chest.

“Yes,” he whispers, the feeling of his hand pressing into your hip following the single-word.

“We’ve made our amends, Chim. We’ve talked it out, we’re here together. You don’t have to be so scared or hesitant,” you say, letting him know it’s ok to love you.

“This is ok?” He asks as his hand shifts to your back, right on the curve of your ass. You know he’s not simply asking about the placement of his palm. He needs to know you want him. In every way you did before.  

And you need to let him know you do want him. That you can handle it. The touch of your lips to his is gentle, slow-burning, but it’s enough to let him know it is very much ok.

“I love you so much,” he mumbles into the kiss that’s becoming heated quickly. Looping your arm around his neck and pulling yourself closer to him, he squeezes at the flesh of your ass before pushing you against the kitchen island.

“I know you do,” you mutter breathlessly against his lips. “Love you so much, too,” you manage to mumble out. As your heart races in pure bliss, you recall just how good it feels to be loved by him.

taehyung x reader (oc) song: You’re My Best Friend, Queen word count: 600+

Oh, you're the first one When things turn out bad You know I'll never be lonely You're my only one And I love the things I really love the things that you do Oh, you're my best friend

Taehyung eyes the mojito in your hand as you grab the microphone from one of his friends with a newfound and borderline aggressive confidence that makes him chuckle to himself. You’re no stranger to karaoke, but usually you’re accompanied by your closest friends who you’ve known since you were eighteen. Without the liquid courage he knows you would not be quite this willing to perform a song solo in front of his Wooga Squad pals, and he finds himself thanking the minty lime rum drink. He loves nothing more than seeing you uninhibited.

There’s a glow hovering around you like a halo when you meet his gaze and point in his direction with a smirk. “This one,” you speak into the microphone as the electric guitar riff intro of You’re My Best Friend by Queen starts playing, “is for my Dearest.” You flash an adorable smile at the man and he thinks he’ll melt from the gooey soft feeling that flows from his chest to the ends of his limbs.

Contrary to the adoration he feels inside, he’s seated coolly with his leg folded over the other, his ankle hooked over his knee as he sits back in his seat. He almost looks like he’s waiting to be impressed, but the smile he wears is fond as you sing the first line of the song.

He watches in fascination as you shimmy and sway and twirl as you sing the song dedicated to him and only him. His friends are chuckling in amusement as they clap and woo at you, but Taehyung hardly registers it. He’s too immersed in you, in his memories with you, in the mutual way you make each other feel. There has always been an air of quirkiness that surrounds the man, making him difficult to understand for many, but you’ve always made him feel like he belongs just as he is. It’s been you for the past several years who has shown him the grace of being understood, without erasing his uniqueness. You find him fascinating, intriguing, but still seen.

Since eighteen, you have been the person he’s run to, with the good and the bad. The lyrics of the song refer to its muse as “my sunshine” but Taehyung specifically thinks of you like a sunrise. Radiant, bright, warm, beautiful whether anyone is looking or not, but people do look. They can’t help but pause and watch even if for a moment or a quick glance. A sunrise is consistent, dependable, loyal, always there, always rising. It symbolizes a fresh day, new opportunities, endless possibilities, shining a light on it all.

Some day, he’ll tell you you’re a sunrise. You’ll be confused at first, but you’ll understand. You always do.

Perhaps that’s the result of finding romance in friendship, allowing the two to blend into an all encompassing union. All these years since meeting you, Taehyung realizes nothing has changed between you and him. Yes, he kisses you now, without hesitation, and he’s stripped your body bare more times than he can count, but it’s still just you two. Dearest and Peaches.

As you sing, “you’re the first one when things turn out bad,” you approach him, making Taehyung sit up and lean in, resting his elbows on his knees. He’s keen for your next move. He always is. Standing in front of him, you sway your hips back and forth, and he can’t resist reaching out to feel the sides of your thighs under his palms. “You know I’ll never be lonely, you’re my only one and I love the things,” you continue singing to him, Taehyung looking up at you with wide pretty eyes, youthful in their anticipation. “I really love the things that you do,” you sing as Taehyung flashes his boxy smile and wraps his arms around the backs of your legs, tugging you on top of him and causing you to squeal into the microphone until abandoning the song altogether when he kisses you. It’s the perk of being best friends and lovers, after all.

jungkook x reader (oc) song: Let’s Do Our Thing Together, Chuck Berry word count: 600+

Now, let's do our thing together Go out and have a balling time You know I dig you doing your thing And I'll turn you on when I do mine I'm not a blue-blood or a scholar Just a hard-working boy And after five long days My body needs a little joy

There’s something so magical about the way Jungkook moves. It’s no wonder he can command an entire stadium of people. He’s charismatic, sharp, smooth, powerful, and all those technical terms dancers use that you weren’t keen to.

All you know is you can watch him dance all night. He’s been freestyling for the past several minutes, staring at his reflection in the mirror as he self critiques, probably much more than necessary. You try to capture his vibe and movement with your pencil against the sketchbook pages, hoping to capture just a touch of the gold that envelops him.

As the song comes to an end, another immediately replacing it, he slows his movements and spins coolly until he’s facing you. “How’s it going?” He asks, glancing at the sketchbook in your lap.

“You move too much,” you smirk teasingly, watching adoringly as his mouth spreads into a cute boyish grin. Reaching for the towel to the side of you, you toss it at him. The cloth hits him in the chest where he clutches it as he makes his way towards you.

“I’m so sorry to inconvenience you,” he feigns an apology, shaking out his hair as he wipes at the sweat gathered on his neck.

“An apology is a start,” you break into a smile, the man now hovering over you. Flipping the sketchbook around for him to see the series of drawings, scribbles of forms leading into different positions, your attempt at following him along in his footwork and movements.

“God, you’re crazy good,” he awes, crouching down to get a better look. His eyes follow along the etchings carefully, observing every marking as though it was all important.

“Oh shush, you’re the one doing the damn thing out there,” you nod at the now empty dance floor. Jungkook smiles shyly, your heart clenching in response to the expression. “Aren’t you tired?” You ask him. It’s well past one in the morning, which isn’t so much a late night for him, but he has been dancing for the better portion of the day.

“Nah,” he scrunches his face in negation, which you see through easily.

“Right,” you smile knowingly. “Well then sit with me to keep me company, not because you’re literally exhausted.”

Giggling at you and his own antics, Jungkook swings his body over to your left and drops onto his butt less than gracefully. “Hi,” he greets you quietly, leaning in to place a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Hey, baby,” you smile at him.

“This really is so cool. I kind of want it,” he nods at the drawing.

“You can have it,” you assure him. “I just like watching you dance.”

“Am I your muse?” he beams, staring down at the drawing still. It’s amazing how fascinated he could be with a simple sketch, but you know it’s not just the sketch. It’s the fact that it came from your hands, your mind, your heart.

“Something like that,” you tell him, skirting around complimenting him just to tease him.

He giggles, nodding exaggeratedly. “I’m happy to serve as inspiration,” he tells you, looking up at you. “I’m gonna frame that.”

Smiling at him, you shake your head in feigned judgment and slight genuine disbelief. Leaning towards you, he nudges your cheek with his nose. “You’re so hot when you do your thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you poke him in the abdomen with your elbow. “You are too,” you assure him. “But I know you’re tired so maybe we should go home.”

Shooting you a defiant pout, you sigh through an amused grin. “If you take me home you can show me what else those hips can do,” you tempt him.

And just like that, Jungkook rises to his feet and reaches a hand out to help you up.

“Home it is,” he grins victoriously. He can be so easy.

#bts reactions #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #seokjin x reader #jungkook fluff #taehyung fluff #jimin fluff #namjoon fluff #hoseok fluff #yoongi fluff #seokjin fluff

[ss3890]

20-Day Deity Challenge courtesy of @broomsick: LINK

I’ve been thinking about this one for a day or so now, listening through my expansive pagan playlist for one that clicked. This one came on and I was like Ooh, yeah. This one feels right:

Bergatrollets Friari by Cesair: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ajCsa2XTGxY

Thing is, I couldn’t understand a damn thing they’re singing about. I had no idea what the title meant - I just knew that the sounds they were making felt amazing and hit me in all the right ways. The drum beat, the tempo, the melody, the climaxes...it makes me feel powerful and want to dance - which is something I tend to do when I’m feeling particularly spiritual.

So I investigated the lyrics, translated them, and felt a little...conflicted? Because the sound felt so good, but the lyrics and the story they told gave me pause. Was this really what I wanted to devote to Hecate?

So I kept listening to it. I gave it some serious thought throughout the day yesterday, and I realized that yes...this song is actually very fitting for my experience with, and relationship to, Hecate.

 Bergatrollets Friari, also known as Herr Mannelig, is a Swedish folk ballad telling the story of a female mountain troll trying to who a young human male. She offers him many fine and beautiful gifts, but he refuses because she is not a Christian woman: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Herr_Mannelig.

It can be implied here that the mountain troll is symbolic of a woman who is pagan, heathen, a ‘wild woman’ - she is not Christian and therefore not of the current mainstream...and in spite of the wealth she can offer, the man rejects her.

A lot of us who identify as pagan, heathen, and wild women have experienced rejection for our nature many times over. I know I have, and while this ballad is in regard to a romantic love, I think it can apply to other and all types of relationships as well. Familial, Social, Platonic - right along with the Romantic. 

The rejection hurts. It’s painful. It makes us angry and sad and separates us from the rest - pushes us to the fringes of society - or causes us to subdue ourselves and what we are to blend in and get by. Thing is, though? Hecate LOVES people like us, and we love her in return - because she is our champion and reflects what we are as good and right, when society at large tells us we are wrong.

A DEEP KNOWING IN THE BONES:

I had the privilege of growing up in a rural town, without close neighbors, with access to forest when the internet was in its infancy. I practically LIVED outside - running around barefoot, crawling on my hand and knees, climbing trees and wading through muddy brooks and cool mosses. My brother and I would be off playing in the woods for hours and our parents never cared because they knew we were around somewhere and would come back when we were tired or hungry. We never felt afraid, were never threatened, and always, always, felt comfortable in those wild places around the home.

There were old skidder trails that ran behind the house. We had a ‘road’ we would follow in order to find our sacred place - The Mossy Grove. We always followed this path and no other - even when there were other options to take. At the first fork (crossroads), we would go right and never left. Never left, for reasons we did not know. 

The one time I did go left, later in life when I was no longer a small child, just to see what was there. I didn’t get very far before something felt wrong. My whole body responded to something I could not see and for the first time in my life, I understood what it felt like to be frightened of the woods. I knew what it was to feel vulnerable...and promptly got the fuck out of there and never, ever, went back that way again. There was something watching over us as children, keeping us safe and secure, and there was something watching over me then - warning me of something I needed to avoid.

We’d walk through a glade of beeches and come to a grove of evergreens that closed in tightly around the trail. They always freaked me out a little bit. Couldn’t see around you at all, just had to tip your head up and move through them with a blind faith that you’d come out on the other side. 

And when you did, you were met with the most beautiful moss-and-mushroom filled glade I have ever seen. This was our secret eden, a sacred wild ground that we cherished with our whole being. We were as much a part of the forest as it was a part of us.

But we would often get pulled from the mosses and the water and the trees and be forced to sit in someone else’s sacred space, made up of rigid pews and rules and strangers that wanted us to be something we were not. 

No matter how many times they tried to make us fall in line, we never did. We didn’t care about their Christian stories or their rules or their sacred book. It never resonated, never took root in us, and both of us are still inherently heathen to this day. The wild was in our hearts from the very beginning, and it refused to be snuffed out.

At that time, resources on paganism were hard for a young person like me to find and there was no guidance from any family members or friends. I just knew I was different, other - though it took me many, many years to fully understand why and find communities and resources that solidified and supported that knowing. 

Still, I embraced what I was. When I began to express my otherness in conversation, I was met with resistance and judgment. I’ve had once-loving people stop talking to me entirely. I have constantly been criticized for being too stubborn, head-strong, and aggressive - untamable. Traits that would be applauded if I had a phallus between my legs. 

I was never an obedient, demure christian woman, and a lot of people have taken issue with that at various points in my life. It’s an interesting thing, to be considered too much and not enough all at once. But that rejection only served to make me fierce and angry and more self-assured - because I knew all the amazing things had to offer to the world and to those who could appreciate my nature. I inherently knew my worth in spite of everything. 

I soon discovered Hecate and recognized myself in her - that dark, powerful, and wild feminine - and if those traits could be embraced within a goddess, then they could be embraced within myself as well. 

I realized I had always walked in her wild realm, along her crossroads, and liminal spaces - it just took me a little while to recognize it in a world that has tried very hard to snuff her out. And through all those little underworlds of pain, trauma, and rejection I moved through, she was there beside me to help me realize my own power. That’s what Hecate does for us - she helps us find our power by facing and owning the deep wounds within us.

Today, I am loud and proud. I show off my symbols, post to social media without fear of criticism, speak honestly, and carve out a place for myself in wider society whether they want me to or not - and in doing so, I have seen other wild women come out from the shadows and reveal themselves to me, bolstered by my own shameless confidence to embrace their true selves in turn. In good Hecatean fashion, I am happy to act as a guiding light for others to find their way.

SO, BACK TO THE SONG ALREADY. WHY CHOOSE THIS ONE?

Because in the way Cesair has composed this rendition, it is deeply powerful in spite of singing of rejection. Those drum beats drive me to get up and dance. The tempo and twirling of voices and notes charges my blood and makes me feel solid in my power, and I face the fact that in spite of the many gifts I can give to someone, sometimes it is simply not enough in the face of my wild nature - but I stay wild all the same, embracing that scorn and rejection like a badge of honor, because I refuse to make myself lesser to in order to take the easier route in life. 

Herr Mannelig and his ilk can go fuck themselves, because someone like my husband is inevitably going to come along and appreciate all those fine gifts I can give him, all while knowing full well I’m a half-feral mountain troll and loving me all the same - if not more so.

So I devote this song, and those feelings it evokes, to my goddess - because she is the one who has helped me understand that what I am and the inner power I hold is rooted in her divinity and it is something to be uplifted and celebrated, even when the world at large often refuses to do so.

Power through pain, my friends. Power through pain. 🤘🏻

#20 day deity challenge #witchery #witchcraft #paganism #hecate #divine feminine #dark goddess #self-confidence #self-worth #bergatrollets frieri

[alba8688]

Chapter 10

Word count:1691

"I like you."

"Y-you like me like.like me like me?"Eddie's eyes lit up like Christmas lights and the biggest smile grew on his pretty face.

"Yes,I like you dummy."I told him in a cute voice

Eddie's smile grew bigger and he slowly got closer to me,his eyes on my lips ,his hand cupping my cheek.

"I wish I could kiss you ." He whispered

"Me too ."I replied .

What he did next surprised me. He closed the small gap that we had his lips brushing mine.

But it wasn't like any other kiss. I couldn't feel his lips on mine, just that tingling sensation again and cold .

I groaned, making Eddie chuckled .

"I know sweetheart." He whispers

I rolled my eyes and walked over to my speaker to play some music to break the tension of me wanting to pounce on my ghost crush .

"What are you doing sweetheart?" Eddie asked

"Putting on some music." I tell him pressing shuffle on my playlist

Play "Amazed"Lonestar

The intro to the song starts and Eddie immediately rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"No,no,no,no i'm not listening to that."but i didn't let him finish his tantrum and shoot my shot by grabbing his hand which i did and it surprised when my hand touched his but like before i couldnt feel him only that tingling sensation and the cold of his hand on mine.

It was scary that i was able to touch his hand because i was never able too .

"This is my favorite song."I tell Eddie, wrapping my arms around his neck.How was I touching him ? Without going through him?

I couldn’t feel him but I wasn’t going through him.It was really scaring me now .

"Its country i don't like country music sweetheart."he pouts

"Just listen to it, I promise you'll love it ."

"Fine only for you ." he shakes his head knowing damn well he can't say no to me.

No ones pov

Eddie wasn't lying when he told Aria he didn't like country music. He hated it so much but he didn't know what it was about her that he would tolerate anything for her.

Aria and Eddie slow dance to the song just contemplating each other but wanting to kiss each other bad but they knew damn well they couldn't .Eddie wanted to wrapped his arms around Arias waist to be able to feel her body in his he wanted to kiss every curve of her body.He wanted to taste her he wanted to make her his but it wasn't possible.

He wished he was able to wake up from whatever sleep he was going through. He wanted to wake up and come running to find Aria in the apartment and finally be able to kiss her to feel her lips on his to feel the way their tongue explored each other's mouth .

Eddie wanted all of this but he knew there was no way possible unless for some miracle he would wake up,

Aria and Eddie don't know for how long they were slow dancing the song was on repeat and Aria didn't even bother changing it because she didn't want to ruin this moment they were having she was afraid that one day Eddie would disappear and never come back or her worst fear that he wouldn't wake up.

Eddie had noticed the song was in repeat since the second time it played again but he didn't care because he got to spend this beautiful moment with Aria.He wanted to spend as much time possible with her because he could feel himself fading away slowly and he was going to do whatever he could to spend the rest of whatever life he had on him with her.His last breath he wanted to be with her ,He wasn't going to tell her because he didn't want to make her sad but he felt that he was slowly fading away and at first it scared him but now it didn't not that much because at least he was wanted by someone.care by someone.He wish he had met her before he done anything stupid before he tried to take his life away .But either way he was happy he had met her .He didn't care they weren't able to go out in public as a real couple or be intimate with each other all he care right now was this moment right now .The more Eddie listen to the song while slow dancing with Aria the more the lyrics hit him hard like a cannonball hitting their target but in a good way, because he realized how hard he had fallen for Aria in these shorts months that he has gotten to know her.He never thought he could feel this way for anyone again after what happened with Chrissy but tonight he open his heart to Aria and tonight Aria open her heart to Eddie letting each other in.

They gave their heart to each completely it wasnt by making love, jus by those looks that they were giving to each other was enough for both of them the way Eddie looked at her like she was the most precious gem in the world.the way Aria smile at Eddie the way her eyes would never leave his sight, that connection they were feeling it was something they had never felt before in there life not even with chrissy and jason this was different way different feeling.

That night when they both lay down in bed next to each other the moment that Aria closed her eyes and had fallen asleep Eddie whispered to her something he thought he was never going to say again.

"I love you."and that night for the first time in two years Eddie was able to sleep to dream and in his dream he was with Aria together living there happily ever after.

The next morning Aria woke up to her phone ringing. She reached over to her bedside table to grab it and answered, her eyes still closed feeling sleepy for the late night Eddie and her had.

"Hello."she rasped

"Babe, what the hell did you do to Gareth?"Claire asks from the other side of the phone.

Yeah Gareth had called Robin and told her that he felt bad for kissing Aria he thought he made her feel uncomfortable.He told her everything the way she jumped off his legs well that's what he thinks.

"Good Morning to you too." Aria said sleepily, finally opening her eyes and turning to her side thinking Eddie would be by her side but he wasn't.

Aria and Claire stayed talking for a few minutes more. Aria tried explaining to her friend that she was fine and that she wasn't mad at Gareth for touching her butt.

That's what Gareth was worried about after Aria had cleared everything she hung up and went back to sleep until she was abruptly woken up by banging on her door.

She opened her eyes again and checked on her side to see if Eddie was next to her but he wasn't and she found it weird but she didn't pay too much attention to it.

The banging on her door continued so she decided to get up not caring that she was still in pjs she rushed down the stairs to open the door. That's when she heard the panicked voice of Dustin Henderson on her door at 10 am.

She opened her door and there he was in tears Dustin Henderson ,he rushed inside as soon as Aria opened the door and started pacing around the apartment looking around for something that he couldn't find.

"Dustin what's wrong?"Aria asked worriedly because she felt her heart beating faster then she felt a sharp pain in her chest like a bad feeling and she didn't want to think wrong she didn't want to think what she was thinking but the way Dustin was acting she knew it was something bad.

"Where is he?"Dustin asked Aria, looking around the apartment. He went into the restroom upstairs to her room then came back downstairs and checked the kitchen.

"Where is who ?"Aria almost choked on her words. She knew who he was talking about .But how did he know?

"Eddie."Dustin choked on his words "i know you talk to him i know you see him ,i thought i was going crazy when i saw his reflection in the mirror the other night i know i wasn't stupid when you use to tell me things that only Eddie knew.please tell me you have seen him?"he broke at the end.

"I saw him last night b-but he wasn't in bed with me this morning."Aria stuttured she tried her best to keep her composure.

"In bed ?"Dustin looked at Aria with a hint of a smile on his face

"Yes."she blushed"he likes me and i like him."she says shyly"i-i know it sounds stupid Dustin how can i like someone that i haven't even met in person just his ghost or whatever he is but i'm deadly serious i care about him alot more than i ever have for anyone."Aria couldn't take it anymore and started crying she felt there was something wrong she knew there was something wrong but she didn't want to accept it .

"I know."was all Dustin said before he broke down .He knew Eddie really liked Aria because he would never let anyone touch her sweetheart let alone sleep in a bed with a girl.

"What's going on?"aria gulped

"His heartbeat is really low this morning t-the doctors say he doesn't have much left,'Dustin continued talking but Aria didn't hear anything anymore since he said his heartbeat is really low.

She ran to her closet leaving Dustin in the living room .She got whatever shirt and jeans and put it on. She didn't even bother putting makeup on.

"Let's go."Aria told Dustin and they both headed to the hospital hoping they got there in time.

Next chapter

#eddie munson #stranger things #ghost story #love #hawkins #lovers #ghost love story

[parkwendy98]

Aespa came back so, let’s talk about it. First off, I want to congrats the girls for breaking the highest pre-order for any girl group (1.6 million pre-order. I’m not sure for the pervious record but let me know)! That’s major for any group. The album cover on spofity is really cool.

Tittle track: Girls

Rating: 6.5/10

Reasoning:

Honestly when the teaser came out, I was super excited. When I watched the music video, I kinda just sat there. I liked the dance break instrumental part and the first half of the song but then I just didn’t vibe with the rest of it. The music video was as always, cool and pretty. Idk the raps didn't feel right for the song or it should've been a different type of rap for the song. Overall the song isn't good but its not bad, its fine. I don't hate it and if its playing then I'll listen to it but I won't add to my playlist if that make sense. I don't hate it but I don't love it. I love the teaser better tbh.

Track: Illusion

Rating: 9.5/10

Reasoning:

Honestly, this is a pretty solid B-side track. I like it and I like the song vibe overall. Its not a ten because I felt like it could've been longer 😭😭. I like this track more then I like the tittle track which makes sad because again I was excited for it.

Track: Lingo

Rating: 8/10

Reasoning:

This song is literally Sassy Me by Red Velvet but its Aespa version. The whole song gave me the vibes of Sassy Me which isn't a bad thing. Its a good song but I gotta be in the mood for it.

Track: Life's Too Short/ Life's Too Short English

Rating: 7.5/10

Reasoning:

This song is cute but it does feel like its missing something but idk what. It sends a really good message within the lyrics which I love but it does feel too on the nose, if that make sense. I like this song but I do have to be in the mood. The teasers for this song though was my fav because thats my aesthetic.

Track: ICU

Rating: 9/10

Reasoning:

This is my favorite song on this album. I feel like people are going to look at me sideways for liking this song so much but I do. I really like how the girls sound on this song and the song itself is really cute. I also remember one of the girls saying they sang this song before they debuted so, it means a lot to them. I was shocked this was my favorite because I thought the title track would be. I just really like this song 😭😭

Overall:

This mini album wasn't my favorite but its not bad, its just not my fav. I saw some people mad that black mamba, forever, and dreams come true and I honestly don't know why it was on there but i'm not mad. Confused about it. I'm proud of the girls and the records they broke and I wish them more success in the future!

#aespa #aespa karina #aespa giselle #aespa winter #aespa ningning #aespa girls #kpop #femaleidol #girl groups #my reviews

[violixs]

is that even a question mae !! i will read everything you write no matter how ia i am i wilk TRACK DOWN EACH WORK OF YOURS AND I WILL ESP ENJOY READING YOUR LONGER FICS !!! but my school breaks up at the end of may !! only 3 weeks of school left and the thought of that makes me wanna bawl.. i actually really enjoy school and the thought of not seeing the same teachers and people next year makes me sulk.. agh i just hate the thought of an ending in general.. in books..writings..a school year WAHH IM GONNA MAKE MYSELF SAD !! going to have to make the most of the time left in this school year :( i have recently been getting into more jpop and adding vietnamese songs to my playlist but my non fluent self can not comprehend the words fast enough LMAOA but i’ve been listening to more ballad songs ?? i guess is the word like slow sentimental ones.. esp k drama osts have been putting me in my feels esp with the all these romantic lyrics but i think my current fav song is to my youth by bol4 the lyrics are so 💔💔 everything about the song I DEF RECOMMEND THE THE THE MINHO WRITING AHHH i feel like my feed back is a little repetitive but I WILL NEVER STOP TELLING YOU RHAT I ADORE YOUR WRITING !! the way u describe everything so realistically and how love isn’t something dramatic and sparkly u instantly know.. and how gentle the reader is with lino !! AND FHE ANGST AT THE HEAD WAHH WSP WHEN LINO CUDDLES CLOSER TO THE READER AND THEY FALL ASLEEP ah hyun and lino i just wanna both give them a big hug and tell them they’re both more than good enough in both fics ARGHSJA ANS FHE LAST LINE ?? PARAGRAPH??? ITS SO PERFECT MAE KSZJJSBW

sjdhhs i’m glad u will still read the long ones… i think i was just v discouraged bc i know the plot i’ve reread and edited it a bajillion times and now bc it feels so.. familiar and not new i am scared other ppl will feel that way but?? they’ve never seen it so?? it should be fine!!!!

AND IN MAY??? u lucky thing rn i still have a good 9-10 weeks of school left :,) i am literally counting down the days because 5 weeks till exams and then a week of that and hopefully for the last 3-4 weeks we get rest :,) i understand what u mean tho like not seeing the same people is SAD u miss a lot of ppl too :( but it just means u have to make the most of the rest of the year u still have!!! but the jpop and vietnamese music omg… if u pick up some words does that mean u speak vietnamese or japanese?? even if it’s not fluent the fact u can recognise some words is so cool so if u have any more music recs lmk !!! i put on the to my youth one rn and i can tell i will listen again… i love ost type ballady songs they’re always so <3 stardust love song by jihyo is rlly rly good if u haven’t already heard it!! it’s. a little slower but god it’s so pretty…

and hshsha do not worry abt feedback being repetitive i literally feel like a little kid being rewarded for good school work or something it makes me so happy everytime… BUT SO TRJE JUSTICE FOR HYUNHO IN THE VIOLIX UNIVERSE i need to write fluff for them because it’s just :,) sad at this point </3 my poor babies omg. anyway!!!!!! how was ur day or week or just. since the last time i talked to u. HOW R U

#.asks #.nat (＾∇＾) #this song is so lovely

[hizashiiis]

Bakusquad + “Why are you awake” Part Two

PART ONE HERE

So here’s part two! Fun fact, the song Jirou plays you in her part is actually a song I wrote! I didn’t include any of the lyrics though because its lowkey really cheesy :/

I hope you like this! This one is for Sero, Mina, and Jirou.

Warnings: insomnia, depression kinda

Sero Hanta

- Sero is very much a hypocrite when it comes to getting enough sleep

- He’s constantly up at all hours, even sending you random texts if he can’t sleep

- But when you aren’t going to bed at a normal time?

- He’s so sad

- He looks like you kicked his puppy and then him in rapid succession. 

- It’s crazy because he seems to just instinctively know when you’re awake

- Like he bolts up in his bed all, “they ain’t in bed. I’m abt to beat some ass.”

- He’s never sure if he’s right though, so he texts you a meme he made specifically for you being up too late

- It’s probably really cheesy and outdated, but the effort is there

- If you respond to it (because you will) he knocks on the wall between your dorms and talks to you 

- Often, you both just stay up like that

Sero’s body is awake before his mind, moving him to sit up in bed before he can think. He was having a really intense dream; something about talking mice. He didn’t mind it, but he woke up as if he’d had a nightmare. 

Faintly, from the wall beside him, he can hear low music playing, but he can’t make out what song it is. It’s coming from your room, though, so he’s concerned. 

The sky outside is dark, clouds drifting across his windowed view of the moon. It must be pretty late; all the noise is gone, leaving nothing but static air, and the music. He leans over his bed to look at the time on his phone. It’s around 2 am. The song you’re playing ends, and he recognizes the next one. It’s on your sad playlist. 

He sends you the meme, as well as an invitation for a hug as soon as it’s morning. You respond almost instantly, assuring him that you’re fine, you just couldn’t sleep. But he knows you better than that. 

Knocking on the wall between you, he hears the music stop suddenly. He calls out to your wall. 

“Mi amor? What’s keeping you awake?” He’s met with silence for a moment before your shaky voice responds.

“I’m okay. I just kinda got hit with some sad, y’know?” He does know. He knows that this happens sometimes. It happens to him, too. But he hates hearing your voice sound so lost. You almost sound hopeless, and he can’t bear it. 

“I understand.” He places his hand up to the wall, wishing he could hold you. Unfortunately, you had both been told off by Iida for sleeping in each other’s rooms more than enough times lately, so he couldn’t just go see you. He opts instead for hugging a stuffed giraffe you had gotten him after the Sports Festival. 

“Do you want me to distract you, or do you want to talk about it?” He asks, stroking the giraffe’s head as if it’s your hair, not knowing that on the other side of the wall, you’re holding a stuffed lion the same way. 

“Distract me?” Your voice comes out only just loud enough for him to hear you, but he understands. He begins to tell you a story. He’s told it before. It’s about a great hero, one who fights crime valiantly, and his partner, also a fantastic hero. He ad-libs parts of it, making pretend villains say silly slogans, and recounting how the heroes save the day. 

As he reaches the end, he hears you giggle a bit. “Oh? Did it work? Are you smiling over there, my sweet?” He calls to you, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

“A little bit.” You respond, playing with your stuffed animal. “If you keep talking, maybe I’ll even smile more.”

He laughs, eyes bleary with sleep, but happy to talk to you the whole night.

Mina Ashido

- Honestly, she’s no better than you about staying awake

- She tries to sleep, but her thoughts are always racing

- Sometimes it’s thoughts of you, sometimes of new things she wants to try in training, or things she wants to see if she can convince her friends to do

- But she wants you to get adequate rest, even if it’s hard for her to do the same

- She used to get told off for sneaking to your room every night, but then Momo and Iida saw how much better you were performing in school on the days after she’d been there, and they started letting it slide

- It’s nicer for her, too, because she has someone to ramble to as the two of you fall asleep

Mina skipped down the hallway toward your room. It was a bit past midnight, and usually, you would be asleep by this time. It was well past lights out, and classes had run long that day, not to mention the endless exams that were happening at UA right now. So when she reached your door, she was surprised to find you watching a movie on your phone instead of snoring. 

“Hey bug! Why are you still up, don’t you know what time it is?” She says, throwing a grin your way as she puts her blanket down next to you. 

You shrug, yawning. “I could ask you the same thing, love.” She pouts at that, tossing her arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple.

She watches you watching your show for a few minutes before saying anything. It looks good, she supposes, but she has a better idea of what to watch. “Scoot over.” She pushes you lightly, giggling as you scrunch to the side to give her more room. “Do you wanna watch something with me?” She asks, holding up her phone. 

You look at her for a moment. “That is what we are currently doing, is it not?” You hold up your phone in return, showing her the paused screen. 

“But I have a better movie!” She insists, unlocking her screen and shoving it above yours so that you can see her pick. She’s right, it is a better movie. You guys have watched the entire Studio Ghibli filmography, but even you know that her favorite, “When Marnie was There,” is the better option at this particular moment. 

You toss your phone to the side, pulling her in to lay next to you. “Fair enough, bubs, I guess yours is better.” You feign reluctance, watching her excitedly press play and tuck the blanket in around the both of you. Her arm curls tighter around your shoulders, and she giggles as the opening credits start. 

“Hey Minari?” You use her favorite nickname, looking at her through hooded, sleepy eyes. She hums in response. “Why is this one your favorite?”

Hearing the question, she pauses the movie, turning to look right at you. She’s quiet for a moment, thinking about her answer. “I guess because they remind me of us! Like I’m Marnie, and you’re Anna, and we’re having this great adventure together!” You feel your face heat at her words, thinking about the movie more critically now. Mina continues, “It’s like…” she pauses, finding the right words. “Like Anna is learning how her friendship with Marnie can make her feel more right, as a person. And I feel like that about you!” 

You’re tearing up now, unsure how to respond. Mina is so many things, and being with you is that important to her? It’s a new feeling, but certainly a welcome one. You pull her down, giving her a kiss. And then another kiss. And one on her nose. 

“Press play, Mina.”

Kyoka Jirou

- Lol u think she sleeps?

- She does, but not at night

- Were it not for classes, Jirou would be essentially nocturnal

- So you try to remind her to go to sleep

- Sometimes you’ll walk past her dorm at night, and you hear her guitar, softly playing her favorite songs

- Before you got together, sometimes you would sit outside her door and listen to her play

- Not in a creepy way, there’s just a little common area right outside her room and you like took a book there, you weren’t like ooh it’s late i think i’ll sit outside someone’s room and listen to them

- You aren’t Mineta. 

- But anyway

- Now that you are together, Jirou thinks it’s really sweet that you listen to her play

- Sometimes she leaves her door cracked open so you can come in

It’s 4 o’clock in the morning, and the light is on in Jirou’s room. You had come out to go to the bathroom, but you noticed her guitar, and decided to stay. The soft strumming is pretty, and you’re glad to be one of the few people allowed to hear it. 

Opening Jirou’s door just a bit more, you nod toward her desk chair in a silent question. She nods, so you go sit down. 

She’s playing a song you don’t recognize, and the lyrics are sad. Even still, it’s beautiful, and your eyes seem to naturally close, taking in the melody of her voice. She used to tell you her voice wasn’t anything special, but she seems content now to let you listen. 

The guitar resonates with the last few chords, and the ending note is held for three beats. When she’s finished, Jirou opens her eyes and looks at you, waiting for your thoughts.

“It was beautiful. Did you write that?” You ask her, your hands fidgeting with the urge to hold her own. She nods, but doesn’t say anything. 

You don’t acknowledge the sad theme of the song. She’s told you before that sometimes sad songs are easier than happy ones. That the melody is clearer. You don’t mind. All her songs are beautiful, and they reflect her in them, and isn’t that what makes a piece of art?

“I have another one, if you’d like to hear it?” She looks nervous; something you never see on her.

“I’d love to!” Your exclamation seems to snap her out of the anxiety in her eyes, which narrow a little. 

“Just…” She starts, looking away from you to adjust the capo on her instrument. “Don’t freak out, okay?”

Confused, you nod, and she starts playing. 

The song starts out with a few chords repeating in a loop, and then she begins to sing. The lyrics are confusing to you at first, and you still aren’t sure why she’s told you not to freak out. But then she gets to the chorus, and it begins to make more sense. 

Lyrics, in essence, are a poem, and this one is a love poem. Her thoughts, written out, are so sweet and loving, that you’re sure you don’t know what to think. She sings elegantly, like someone who’s never known how to dance, and yet is waltzing perfectly across a shining floor. 

She finishes the song with a declaration of loyalty, and you realize your eyes are watering. She looks at you, waiting for your thoughts. 

You say nothing. You don’t know how to say anything, so you stand, cross to her, and pull her into a hug. She’s not usually one for physical touch, but she holds you tightly. 

“It’s about me, right?” You laugh, leaving a kiss on her calloused fingers. She rolls her eyes. 

“Obviously.”

She smiles at you, pulling you to lay on her bed as she puts her guitar in its case, taking the capo off the strings. “You should sleep. It’s like, morning now.”

“You should too.” You retort, still holding her hand. 

“No.”

#mha fluff #mha x reader #mha imagines #sero x reader #sero hanta #sero hanta x reader #mina ashido #mina x reader #mina ashido x reader #jirou x reader #kyoka jirou x reader #mina ashido fluff #sero fluff #jirou fluff

[skiyoosmi]

– caramel frappucino | 22

marga’s notes. because no one deserves to be confronted just through texts ♡ i recommend y’all to listen to the songs below while reading cause… the feels!! + some of the lyrics fit in their story :((

♪ CHAPTER PLAYLIST ♪

tokyo by joseph & maia | i can’t make you love me covered by dave thomas junior | still feel it all by maro

previous | masterlist | next

Every chime of the small bell hanging by the café’s glass doors had your head snapping up, anxiety plastered on your face while doing so. Sweat kept on forming on your palms as time seemed to tick slower. I probably look like a fool looking at every new customer right now, you thought as you looked around the area, nervous that he might’ve already arrived and you just didn’t notice it yet. Too occupied with your unnecessary thoughts, you have failed to notice the figure making its way towards you, hands deep in the pocket of his denim jacket.

“You look like a mess,” his monotonous voice told you, chuckling by the end of his statement as you gasped and sat up straight, acting as normal as possible. Your somewhat sympathetic eyes followed his figure as he took a seat in front of you.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s still too early to break my heart, you know?” he joked although there was a stinging pain that passed in his heart as he said that… but you don’t have to know that, he thought.

The café was quiet; too quiet that as more seconds pass by, the faster your heart beats. If you were to be honest, you didn’t know where to start. You didn’t even know how you have gathered enough courage to meet him today. After what Tooru had told you last night, you hadn’t even slept a wink. You just couldn’t.

“Uhm… so… Tooru… uhh,” you stuttered, mind going blank as you tried to form your words that you have practiced so many times while you were in the bathroom, getting ready a while ago. What in the world are you doing, [y/n]? Speak! you internally screamed, already imagining yourself regretting your decision by the end of the day.

“I know. He told me that he told you,” he softly spoke, giving you a small smile of reassurance; just like what he’s been doing in the past years and with that, you felt your heart shatter as your thoughts flooded you once more.

How could you have not noticed it? Looking at him, you could see it now – the eyes that stared at you lovingly; the hand that twitches every now and then as it longed to touch you, or pull you close; the smile that held back so many feelings; and the heart that holds his love that was solely kept for you… how could you have not noticed it?

“I’m sorry,” you whispered as you felt tears welling up. Frustration grew inside you when you heard him chuckle. How could he even manage to laugh right now? You had no idea how he did it. In your case, guilt surged in your insides as if it was an ocean threatening to swallow you whole. If you could shrink yourself into oblivion, you would probably do so.

Slowly, he reached over your hand that was neatly folded together on the table, caressing it with his thumb as he held onto it tightly. You were sure that if anyone who doesn’t know both of you sees you, they’d probably think you were just another couple out on a simple date but no. You two were best friends who fell in love with each other, both in wrong times. You were two young adults who danced in fate’s hands, clueless that you were being played by time.

“Don’t say sorry. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault except time, [y/n],” he told you, lightly squeezing the hand he held. You sniffed a little bit, finally gathering the courage to look back at him after your short turmoil.

“I should’ve told you…” you both said at the same time, catching each other off guard. Light chuckles turned into a fit of giggles as you shook your heads at your silliness. Unbeknownst to the two of you, your thoughts matched one another’s while you had your lovely moment. You were made for me, but not in ‘that’ way, you both thought; hands still intact with each other.

“I expected you to be more… crybaby,” he commented after a few moments of talking. You sadly smiled after releasing a deep breath.

“I had my crybaby moment last night already,” you shrugged as you fiddled with your fingers out of nervousness. The deafening silence has returned once more as Hajime stared at you, rather longingly… but again, he thought you don’t have to know that.

“Stop being so guilty, you baby. It’s not our fault time was against us,” he softly spoke with reassurance and comfort.

“You like that Sakusa now, don’t you?” you meekly nodded, an eyebrow rising at the sudden query.

“Then be happy with him.”

You opened your mouth to say something against his statement, only to be shut down as he held his hand up. When it comes to Hajime’s firmness, no one can go against it; not even you, his sole weakness.

“Don’t think about me. I’ll be fine soon… having this closure with you… it’s enough for me,” once again, the small wound in your heart burst open and soon, tears formed in the corner of your eyes while you hastily wiped them off. He was too kind, too pure for this world, even for you. He whispered a quiet ‘stop crying’ while wiping the salty liquid that escaped your eyes.

“W-what did I do to deserve someone like you?” you whimpered, not even caring if the other customers looked at the two of you weirdly.

“W…what can I do to repay this kindness?” you asked him as you looked with a pair of melancholic eyes.

“Just spend this day with me like what we normally do… then be happy.”

And you did. From going to an amusement park, watching a movie and at some point during your friendly date, he managed to ask you one of the questions that kept him up from his sleep as well.

“So… uhm… I may or may not have read one of your texts with Sakusa about the strawberry ice cream,” he muttered, sheepishly scratching the back of his head as he looked at you, who in turn, shrugged.

“I used to love it; you know? Those boxes of strawberry milk you got me throughout middle and high school. It gave me the hope that maybe, I was special to you too…” you softly told him while you both walked along the park, having had enough of the rides that almost made you two puke your internal organs out. “… until third year came when I accepted that it won’t happen; we will never happen. Anything that had strawberry in it tasted bitter. I felt bitter.”

He never said anything back and soon, you found yourselves eating dinner in a fancy restaurant that he told you he’d been saving up for to take you someday.

Little did you know, Hajime’s heart has been erratically beating due to the fact that the time he dreaded neared as you were almost done eating. You were already at your desserts and soon, he will have to say goodbye; not as your friend but as your lover. As soon as the day ends and tomorrow comes, he will – finally – have to let you go.

“In our next lives…” you looked up from the caramel custard you were poking with your teaspoon as he spoke up. You hummed, signaling him to continue, unaware of the gulp he took while trying to formulate his next words.

“In our next lives, I will love you first… I will make you happy and I will give you the love you have always deserved. For now, be happy with Sakusa in this timeline.”

The walk to the train was quiet, but no longer the same quietness you hated that morning – it was comforting, it felt like home as you walked together hand in hand, no pain lingering around your hearts as you both accepted your fate.

“Well, today was… fulfilling, Haji. This… this is my ride ho–”

“I’ll take you home. Let’s go,” he announced as he pulled you inside the train packed with office workers who were dying to go home and rest. You wonder why he suddenly thought of taking you all the way to your house. He literally has to travel for another hour because of this, you internally screamed while glaring at him for his impulsiveness.

“Stop glaring at me. It’s only right that I take you home for the last time,” he spoke, not even bothering to look at you. How did he know you were glaring? You honestly have no idea.

Thirty minutes later and here you both were, walking side by side along the empty street leading to your home. His firm statement back in the restaurant lingered in your mind as you remembered how it struck your heart when you heard it. Because of that, you didn’t even know how to respond and remained silent. Still, he held no sadness nor remorse in his face, only a determined look that almost convinced you that it will happen soon.

As your simple house came into view, you both stopped, knowing that he has to go back to the station now or else he will have to wait another thirty minutes for the next train to arrive. He was quick to ruffle your hair, silently bidding his goodbye.

You knew that if one of you speaks at the moment, you were sure as hell that one of you will also go into full-blown crying. But you know what? Damn this all, you thought.

“Iwaizumi Hajime!” you yelled as soon as he was about twenty steps away from you. You could see him stiffen but slowly turned around. You didn’t care if you woke some of your neighbors; you could deal with their complaints tomorrow.

“In our next lives, I will choose you… you better find me, okay, Haji?”

Tears were spilled from both of your eyes as he solemnly smiled and nodded, choosing to mouth his reply. Nonetheless, you understood it with your whole heart.

“I’ll come to you… so please wait for me.”

#haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #sakusa smau #sakusa x reader #haikyuuwritersnet #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu social media au #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu #sakusa imagines #sakusa scenarios #sakusa social media au #sakusa headcanons

[wayward-dreamer]

Life’s Lessons - Family Ties

AO3 Link: Read Here

Square Filled: Handjobs

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader

Other characters: OFCs: Meredith (Y/N’s mom), Jill (Y/N’s sister), Evie and Mia (Y/N’s nieces), OMC: David (Y/N’s dad), Brian (Y/N’s brother-in-law)

Word count: 6,539 (song lyrics in italics).

Rating: Explicit 18+!

Summary: Y/N’s family is coming to Lawrence to visit her, making this the perfect opportunity for Dean to meet them. Despite his nerves, Dean knows he has to bite the bullet and take the next step in order to have the future he wants with Y/N.

Warnings: Swearing, Dean’s self-deprecation rears its ugly head, Handjob, Dirty talk, A whole lotta fluff. 

Music: One of These Nights by Eagles (Dean and Y/N get ready for dinner scene)

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist

Created for @spnkinkbingo​

A/N: Time stamp #2 is here! I’m so excited to hear what you guys think of this. There’s just so much more to come for these two, and I can’t wait to share it with you all, but more on that later! ;) As always, happy reading and enjoy! :)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Life’s Lessons Saga Masterlist

“Alright, great. I can’t wait to see you guys soon!”

Y/N hung up the phone and placed it on the coffee table in front of her. The smile she had been wearing as she spoke to her family suddenly dropped into a worried expression.

Her mother had called saying that they wanted to come and visit her in Lawrence, now that summer break was about to start, and she would be free to see her family. Her mom, dad, Jill, Brian and the girls were all planning on coming down to Kansas and spending a few days there. It was more than enough time for Y/N to spend with them and for her family to finally meet Dean.

Which was the cause of her worry.

It’s not that she didn’t want them to meet Dean. She did. She just wasn’t sure if Dean wanted to meet them. Especially not all at once.

The keys jingling in the door caught her attention, hearing Dean’s boots in the hallway before he appeared in the living room. He walked over to the kitchen and placed the take-out bags on the bench, and then came towards her with a smirk on his face. She had sent him a message to pick up food when the call went on for longer than she was expecting.

“Hey,” she said, leaning up and kissing him, as he leaned down.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He dropped himself on the couch, sighing heavily as he laid back, closing his eyes. “Fuck, I’m tired.”

She smiled softly, leaning over and kissing his cheek. “Well, relax for a bit, freshen up and then we can eat.”

He could clearly tell something was bothering her by the tremor in her voice, because he sat up slightly, frowning. “You okay, Y/N?”

She sighed as she turned to face him properly, trying to smile so that she didn’t worry him. “I’m fine, but there’s something I have to talk to you about.”

“What is it?” he asked, his frown becoming deeper.

“I was just on the phone with my mom, and… well she and everyone else – my dad, Jill, Brian and the girls – are all coming down here in a few days to see me,” she explained, carefully approaching the next subject.

“Okay…,” he trailed off, understanding so far what she was saying but waiting for more.

“And… they want to meet you,” she informed him, smiling softly. “I really want them to meet you too, but I wanted to see how you feel about it.”

“Oh.” He nodded slowly, trying to figure out the best way to continue. It’s not that he didn’t want to meet her family, it was because he had never done that before, in fear that he would be the last man a girl’s family would want her to be with.

“Dean?” She tried to get his attention, but he was practically staring into space. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. There’s no pressure-”

He suddenly turned, shaking his head as he took her hands in his. “No, no I-I want to,” he nodded, firmly. “I’m just… I’m not sure they’d wanna meet me.”

“Why not?” she asked. It made her sad and angry to hear him say that.

“Well… I’m not exactly the type of guy that girls want their parents to meet,” he muttered, shrugging as he looked down at their joined hands.

She shook her head, scooting closer to him. “That’s not true.”

“Yeah, it is, Y/N.” When he looked up at her, she felt her heart drop.

There was clearly something from his past that made him believe that to be true, and now it was up to her to make him see how wrong that was. He was a good man. He was perfect for her in every way, and she would prove that to him, more than she already had.

“It’s not,” she said, firmly as she shook her head. She squeezed his hand in hers, smiling at him. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and if you’re ready… I can’t wait for my family to see that.”

“You sure?” he asked, looking up at her. He knew he wanted to do this. It was the next step and he had to take it if they were going to have a future together. He just needed to be sure that she wanted her family to meet him.

“I’m positive,” she told him, smiling. “I need you to be completely sure, too.”

He gave her a firm nod. “I’d love to meet them.”

Y/N’s smile grew as she pushed herself into Dean, wrapping her arms around his neck as he fell back on the couch. She leaned down and kissed his lips, his cheek, his jaw, his neck and then moved back to his lips. He chuckled as she pulled away, slowly cupping her face in his hands, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“You’re really sure, right?” she asked, still worried. “I just don’t want to pressure you to do something you don’t to.”

He reached up, kissing her lips softly. “I’m sure, Y/N. You met my family and they loved you, so… hopefully it’s the same story with yours.”

“It will be,” she said, smiling. “I just know it.”

Dean walked up the porch stairs of Y/N’s house, a bottle of Bourbon in one hand, a bouquet of pink carnations in the other. Using his elbow, he rang the doorbell, slowly releasing a ragged breath he had been holding in. He was about to meet Y/N’s family and to say he was nervous was an understatement. He had never met a girlfriend’s family before, never getting to that stage with anyone. When he thought he had with Lisa, she wasn’t interested in her family getting to know him better. He had met her sister on one occasion when she was visiting with Lisa’s baby niece, but other than that, there had been nothing.

Now, he was with Y/N. The woman he already knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He couldn’t screw up this up.

The door swung open, a smiling Y/N greeting him on the other side, appropriately dressed for the weather they were having in a long, peach colored, strappy summer dress. She let him in, stopping him from walking further after she closed the door. She took him in, dressed in a black, half-sleeve button-up shirt and jeans and his boots, looking as gorgeous as he always did. She leaned in, kissing him softly.

“Hey,” she whispered. “I missed you yesterday.”

Her family had gotten to Kansas City in the morning, and they spent the whole day together, giving them time to be with each other before Dean met them.

“I missed you more,” he whispered back, smirking. “I don’t like not having you in my bed.”

“I don’t like it either,” she said, her tone still hushed. She moved closer to him, kissing him again. Pulling away, she smiled at him. “So… you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” he told her, with another shaky exhale.

She smiled softly and reassuringly, offering him her hand. “I got you.”

He smiled at her, gathering the bottle and bouquet in one hand, and taking hers with the other. He brought their linked hands to his lips, placing a kiss on hers. He knew he could do anything as long as he had her by his side.

“Let’s do this,” he said, winking at her.

Y/N took the lead as they walked down the hallway and into the living area where her family was. Dean saw them all sitting around and talking, laughing at something someone had said. As he and Y/N walked in, their heads turned to look at them, all of their eyes landing on him. A string of curses ran through his mind as Y/N’s father stood up, followed by her mother.

“Mom, dad… this is Dean,” Y/N introduced, with a big smile on her face. “Dean, this my dad, David and my mom, Meredith.”

“Good to finally meet you,” David said, offering his hand.

Dean quickly dropped Y/N’s hand as he shook her father’s, firmly. “Good to meet you, sir. I hope you’re a Bourbon man.”

He handed the bottle over, a little more confidence in him now, considering Y/N had given him the cheat sheet to get instant approval from her father and mother. He shook Meredith’s hand too, handing her the flowers.

“I do. Nice choice,” David smiled approvingly, giving Dean a little nod.

“These are beautiful, Dean. Thank you,” Meredith smiled, smelling the flowers.

“This is Jill, my sister and her husband Brian,” Y/N said, but paused for them to meet before she gestured for the girls to come forward. They were hiding behind Jill, slightly intimidated by Dean’s height. “And these two… are the most important people in our family. Evie and Mia.”

“Hey girls,” Dean smiled, crouching down to their level.

“Hi,” Evie muttered, shyly. “You’re really tall.”

Dean chuckled slightly, shaking his head. “I’m not as tall as my brother.”

Evie’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded as his eyes widened like hers.

Evie laughed a little as she stepped out from behind Jill. “I’m 5. How old are you?”

“Evie,” Jill warned, shaking her head with a small laugh. “Sorry about her, she’s very inquisitive now.”

“It’s okay, really,” he said, waving it off. He moved a little closer to Evie, like he was about to tell her a secret. “I’m 35, kiddo. So pretty old.”

Y/N laughed a little as she saw her niece cup her hand over her mouth, dramatically as she heard how old Dean was. Dean laughed as well but held up his pinkie in a fake serious manner.

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?” he asked in a stage whisper, keeping within his little act.

She nodded and curled her pinkie around his. “Promise.”

“Good,” he said, giving her wink as he held a finger to his lips.

Little Mia wobbled on her legs, causing Jill to bend down and pick her up. Dean stood up and leaned over, lightly touching her chubby cheek. A small giggle left her, causing Dean to laugh as well.

Y/N felt her heart bursting with joy. She watched as Dean mingled with everyone, asking about their day out the previous day and general questions about their lives back at home in Rhinebeck. She knew things would go well, but they had gone better than she had ever pictured. Dean was now more at ease, asking them what they’d like to drink before he walked into the kitchen. She followed behind him, watching him take out 3 beers from the fridge and open them at the kitchen bench. She leaned into him, resting her chin on his arm as she looked up at him. “You’re amazing,” she whispered.

He looked at her and leaned down, kissing her forehead. “No. You are, and so are they.”

She closed her eyes at the feel of his lips on her skin, her smile beaming. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you, too” he said, leaning down to kiss her, passionately. He broke it after a moment, picking up the beers. “I’ll see you in there.”

He moved away, winking at her before he left the kitchen.

She watched from the kitchen as he sat amongst them, immediately immersing himself in the conversation. She sighed as her heart soared with the love she felt for him.

Lunch went incredibly well, Dean now comfortable with everyone and answering everyone’s questions. He had them all laughing with tales from his childhood, from work and just with his hilarious anecdotes and comments about everyone else’s stories he was listening to. When he mentioned the Impala, Y/N saw her dad’s eyes widen, her smile growing bigger if that was even possible, when Dean told him they could go for a drive one of these days.

As Y/N and Meredith cleared up after everyone was done with lunch, Jill and Brian took the girls outside in the backyard to play, now that the weather was a little more tolerable. Dean stood up from the table, clearing any remaining glasses and cutlery. He took them into the kitchen and returned to the table, catching the attention of Y/N’s father.

“Can I get ya anything else, sir?” Dean asked, as he turned to David.

“No, I’m good. Thanks Dean,” David smiled, gesturing for Dean to sit down. “Can we talk?”

Dean felt his heart begin to beat faster as he was suddenly nervous again. “Sure.” He sat down in the same chair he had occupied previously and faced the older man.

“Dean… I need to thank you,” David started as he looked up at Dean.

“Thank me? For what, sir?” Dean asked, confused as to what he had done that warranted praise.

“For making my daughter happier than I’ve ever seen her,” David replied, lowering his voice slightly so that Y/N didn’t hear from the kitchen. “She’s had a tough time after what her jerk of an ex did, but the fact that she’s now the way she used to be before him, better in fact… I have to thank you for that.”

Dean nodded but gave a little shrug. “That was all her, sir. She’s strong and clearly, she’s gotten that from you and Meredith. I only helped in any way that I could.”

“Definitely more from her mother than me. The three of them – Meredith, Jill and Y/N – they’re the reason I get up every morning,” David stated, smiling as he thought about his family.

Dean smirked, picking up his beer and holding it out. “To them.”

David smiled in return, picking up his bottle and clinking it with Dean’s. “To them.”

“Everything okay here?” Y/N asked, suddenly startling both of them as she and her mother walked back to the table.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Dean said, taking a sip of his beer.

“Dean!” little Evie hollered, as she came running into the house. She went right up to him and stood beside his chair, not intimidated by him anymore, her little face looking up at him. “Will you play outside with me and Mia?”

“Of course, peanut,” he said, getting up from the table. “Let’s go!”

Dean took off running after Evie, both of them sprinting into the backyard. Y/N laughed as she shook her head, loving that the kids had taken to him so quickly. Her mom came up beside her, putting her arm around her as they turned to look at each other.

“He’s a really good one,” she smiled, leaning over and kissing Y/N’s cheek.

“I think so, too,” Y/N said, smiling.

Meredith turned to David and gestured to the door. “Shall we take a walk? See the neighborhood?”

Y/N kept herself from laughing, knowing her mom was dying to see all the beautiful houses and their amazing gardens.

“Sure,” David said, as he stood up and took his wife’s hand. “See you soon, sweetie.” He walked past Y/N and kissed her head, as he led Meredith to the door.

“You two have fun!” she called out before the door shut behind them.

Y/N walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge, taking out the large jug of iced tea she had made. Pouring some into two glasses, she put the jug back in the fridge before taking the glasses out to her back porch. Jill was sitting at the outdoor dining table, watching Dean and Brian play with the girls. Y/N handed her a glass and sat down next to her sister, watching them too.

Dean roared after the little girl, who squealed and laughed as he chased her around the backyard. He picked up Evie, spinning her around, making her laugh even more. Little Mia had started walking, but it was more like waddling at this point. She stood in the grass, watching and clapping her chubby little hands. Brian stood behind her, making sure she didn’t fall.

“He’s amazing,” Jill told Y/N as they both watched Dean playing with the kids.

Y/N was feeling all kinds of things as she watched him. “Yeah, he is.”

“I think mom’s ready for the wedding, already,” Jill laughed, as Y/N rolled her eyes playfully.

“She’s going to be waiting a while, I think,” Y/N sighed, shrugging.

“Really?” Jill asked, frowning before it turned into a smile. “I personally don’t think so.”

“Jill.” Y/N shook her head, looking at her sister. “You can’t say stuff like that.”

“I can when it’s true. Dad’s ready to drive the Impala around one of these days, the girls adore him,” Jill stated, trying to make her sister understand why she was saying that. “Y/N… it’s going to happen. I can feel it.”

Just before she could say anything, Y/N looked up and smiled at Dean as he walked over, carrying Mia in one arm as he held Evie’s hand with the other. Brian laughed as he sat down, slightly relieved that the kids had attached themselves to Dean for a while.

“Damn, these two are tiring,” he huffed out as he sat down at the outdoor table, under the shade of the back porch. “I don’t know how you guys do it,” he laughed as he looked between Jill and Brian.

“It gets easier after a few years,” Brian explained, picking up Jill’s glass and taking a sip.

“You’ll understand when you guys have some of your own,” Jill said, pointedly.

Y/N glared at her, silently telling her to knock it off.

“Yeah, it’ll probably all make sense, then,” Dean said, winking at Y/N.

Jill looked at Y/N with an “I told you so” look before sipping her iced tea.

After a moment, they all returned inside, spreading out on the couches. Little Mia had fallen asleep in Brian’s arms, as Evie was struggling to keep herself awake in Jill’s lap. The front door opened and closed, signalling that David and Meredith had returned.

“How was the walk?” Y/N asked, smiling at her mom.

“Great, but it’s still pretty hot out there.” She emphasised her statement with a wipe of her brow as she sat down.

“I think we should head out. Get these two down for a nap,” Jill told Brian quietly, but loud enough for all of them to hear.

“Why don’t we all go to dinner tonight? I can find something for us,” David asked, looking between everyone.

Everyone didn’t even need to think it over, more than willing to go out for dinner.

They all said their goodbyes, as Jill and Brian went back to the hotel with the girls. Y/N’s mother and father were staying with her, but David had an old friend that lived in Kansas City who he and Meredith would be catching up with before dinner, so they all left together. Y/N and Dean waved them all off as they drove away, stepping back into the house. Just as the door closed, she jumped on him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He leaned in, kissing her passionately.

“That went really well,” she mumbled against his lips, between kisses.

“You think so?” he asked, frowning.

She nodded, smiling as she bit her lip. “Absolutely. You did great!”

“Thanks,” he muttered, a small smile gracing his face.

“You can relax now,” she joked, kissing his lips softly. She wrapped her arms around him, tighter, leaning her forehead against his.

“How does an afternoon nap sound?” he asked, smirking.

“It sounds terrific,” she replied, returning his smile.

Dean carried Y/N towards her bedroom, laying soft kisses on her skin as he walked down the hallway. He was glad to have a little time with her before they met up with her family again later that evening, fully intending on cuddling up with her and enjoying a late afternoon nap in May.

After a relaxing snooze, Dean and Y/N got ready to go to dinner with her family. He went to his house to get dressed and quickly came back. She had gotten a text from Jill telling her where they would be going to eat, and Y/N relayed the information to Dean as she got dressed. He wore a fresh half-sleeve button-up shirt, in blue this time and his jeans, once again donning his boots. Y/N got dressed into a red with white polka dots, A-line, knee-length dress and pulled her hair into a tight ponytail.

Once she was dressed, she applied a touch of make-up, dancing to One of These Nights playing from her speaker as she stood in front of the mirror. Her hips swayed from side to side, not realising the pair of green eyes on her. Dean sat back in the chair across from the bed, smirking at the sight in front of him.

“Keep doing that and we’ll never leave, sweetheart,” he informed her, the smirk not leaving his face.

She shook her head, laughing slightly. “This song just gets me going.”

“I sure ain’t complaining,” he said, as he stood up.

Quickly moving behind her as she packed away her make-up, he grabbed her hand, pulling her away from the mirror and spinning her around. She laughed as he spun her, bringing her in close to him as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Fuck. The things you do to me,” he whispered in her ear and leaned back, looking into her eyes.

“You’re one to talk,” she countered, smiling as she wagged her eyebrows.

One of these dreams

One of these lost and lonely dreams, now

We’re gonna find one

Oh, one that really screams

I’ve been searching for the daughter of the devil himself

I’ve been searching for an angel in white

I’ve been waiting for a woman who’s a little of both

And I can feel her but she’s nowhere in sight

Dean turned her around in his arms, her back pressed close to his chest. Leaning down, he kissed along her neck, smirking against her skin as she let out a soft moan.

“You know… he’s definitely talking about you,” he murmured, pulling her close to him.

“I’m the daughter of the devil?” she asked, shocked as she scoffed a laugh.

“Yeah,” he said, simply. “But you’re an angel in white, too. A little of both… that’s perfect, if you ask me.” He smirked at her in the mirror as she shook her head, trying not to show her amusement as she stopped herself from smiling.

“You’re insane,” she laughed, lightly as she moved away from him. She picked up her black purse that matched her black heels and offered him her hand. “We better go, come on.”

“Fine,” he whined, with a pout.

His plan to seduce her would just have to wait.

Despite it being a weekend, the traffic wasn’t as bad as Dean thought it would be driving into Kansas City. Very soon, he pulled up into the parking lot of the restaurant, cutting the engine. He made a move to get out, but felt Y/N tug on his shirt, causing him to turn around and face her. She smiled at him as she slid across the bench seat, instantly wrapping her arms around him. Without a word, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his, in a slow, sensual kiss.

Pulling away and clearing his throat, he blinked a few times as he looked at her in wonder. “What was that for?”

She bit her lip as she continued to smile and shrugged her shoulders. “To thank you for today. I hadn’t said it yet.”

“There’s no need to thank me, babe,” he told her, chuckling lightly.

“Yes, there is,” she said, nodding as she looked at him. “The way you were today with all of them; it was amazing. The way you were with the girls…”

She visibly shivered as she looked at him, her eyes flicking down to his lips before she looked up again. Seeing him with her nieces awoke something inside of her that she didn’t think would happen so soon. The desire to have children with him.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, a smirk on his face.

She nodded as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his. “You’re so wonderful to everyone, Dean. You make everyone around you really happy.”

She saw his cheeks darken a little despite the lack of light in the car, and she thought it was the cutest thing ever. Slowly, one arm left the link around his neck, as her hand drifted down to the top of his jeans. She leaned in and kissed him in the same, sensual pace as her hand began to rub over the crotch of his jeans. As they continued to kiss, she felt him started to get hard under the denim.

He pulled away from the kiss, sighing. “Fuck, Y/N. We-we can’t, not here-”

She shushed him in a low tone, giving him that mischievous smile he loved so much. “It’s okay, no one’s going to see. Let me show you how much I appreciate you.”

She moved her other arm down too, as her hands quickly worked to unbuckle his belt and undo his jeans. Tugging them down, he lifted up slightly to let her pull them down to his thighs, his cock slapping against his lower stomach, semi hard.

Y/N kept her eyes on Dean’s as she brought her hand to her mouth, wetting it with saliva. She moved it down and took a hold of his cock, wrapping her fingers around the shaft in a firm grip. She slowly began to pump her hand up and down, her eyes never leaving him. She leaned in close to him, her eyes darkened.

“You’re so good to me, Dean,” she whispered, looking into his eyes. “You treat me so well. You’re the greatest man I’ve ever known.”

She felt his cock getting harder as she continued to stroke him. She leaned down and dropped more spit onto it, getting him nice and wet.

“You’re so kind, generous, loving, loyal,” she stated, as leaned in and pecked his lips, softly. “The way you make me feel… no one’s ever made me feel so good.”

Dean groaned as he looked down at her hand, watching it pump his cock. He looked up at her, his eyes hooded as he felt the familiar rush of arousal to his dick.

“Your cock is so perfect,” she moaned softly, looking between him and what she was doing. “It fills me up so good when it’s inside me, hits that spot inside of me that only you can reach.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunted, his eyes flicking between her hand and her eyes. “Shit.”

Between the handjob and her words, he was going to cum sooner than he wanted to. He let out short puffs of air as he threw his head back over the top of the seat, his neck straining. She leaned in, kissing him at his pulse point, softly nipping at it.

“I fucking love this cock,” she moaned, kissing his neck. “And I love your tongue, and your mouth… when you suck on my clit… fuck, Dean you drive me crazy.”

Moving up onto her knees, she leaned over him, her face closer to his, staring into his eyes. Her other hand moved down and cupped his balls, rolling them in her palm.

“How do my hands feel, Dean?” she asked, quickly kissing his lips.

“Oh, fuck… feels-feels so fucking good, sweetheart,” he choked out, struggling to hold her gaze.

“Yeah?” she smirked, chuckling slightly at how much under her spell he was. “I bet I know what you want around this cock instead.”

Dropping more of her saliva onto his cock, she felt him throbbing against her hands as one continued to stroke him while the other paid attention to his balls. She moved her hand under the head of his cock, creating a ring and twisting her wrist, causing him to moan loudly. His eyes were shut tight, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he kept clenching it. The sight of him like that had her biting down on her lip, feeling herself getting wet as she looked at him.

“I love you so much, Dean Winchester. I love everything about you,” she whispered against his lips. “Look at me.”

Dean’s eyes snapped open as his breathing became more erratic. She kissed his lips as she kept her eyes open, looking down at him. She massaged the head of his cock with her fingertips, smirking as he bit down on his lip.

“Y/N, I… fuck, I can’t,” he stuttered, shaking his head. His mouth opened as his eyes closed again, a choked moan leaving him.

Her other hand took hold of his cock, as she began to work both hands along his shaft. He was close, his cock pulsing as she pumped her hands.

“You close, baby?” she asked, smiling down at him.

He nodded frantically as little grunts left his lips, his hands clenching into his jeans as they rested on his thighs.

“Look at me, Dean. I want you to look into my eyes when I make you cum,” she ordered, her hands picking up speed.

He opened his eyes again, causing her to smile when they met hers.

“That’s it, handsome. Just keep your eyes on me,” she said, smiling at him. Leaning in closer, she lowered her voice into a hushed tone. “I’m so happy you’re in my life, Dean. I can’t imagine it without you anymore. I want you forever.”

Her hands worked him faster, his cock throbbing more as she brought him closer to his release. She held one hand around the base of his cock, as the other continued to stroke him, her hand closing over the head firmly on every upward motion.

“Y/N,” he growled, through his clenched teeth. “Fuck, sweetheart, I-”

“You wanna cum, Dean?” she asked, smirking down at him.

He huffed as he looked up at her. “Y-Yeah.”

She moaned as she felt his cock throb and pulse. Looking into his eyes, she nodded approvingly. “Give me that cum, baby. Come on, cum for me, Dean…”

Dean felt his dick throb and threw his head back, letting out a loud, choked moan as ropes of cum spurted out of his cock. It all dripped over Y/N’s hand as she continued to jerk his shaft while he reached his high. She milked him for all he was worth and leaned down, lapping up everything he gave her from around her hand. She sucked at the tip of his cock to get the last of it into her mouth, before leaning up and looking at him as she swallowed. She smiled at him and winked, loving that she had an advantage. He shook his head as he looked at her, breathing heavily as he came down from his high.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned, shutting his eyes as he laughed. He opened his eyes, staring up at the roof of the car. He licked his lips and turned his head, looking at her.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, gorgeous,” he told her, tugging on her hand and pulling her closer. He leaned up, pressing his lips to hers in a searing kiss.

“We better clean up and go in,” she stated, after pulling her mouth away from his.

“Oh, now you wanna go in?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Now? When I have to face your family after what you did to me?”

She laughed loudly as she picked up her purse and moved away from him, opening the passenger door and getting out of the car.

Y/N rested her purse on the hood and opened it, taking out a few napkins and cleaning up her hands. She took out her lipstick and compact mirror, reapplying it to her lips after her saliva got rid of some of it. Packing the items back into her purse, she slung it over her shoulder, watching through the windscreen as Dean fixed himself, zipped up his jeans and got out of the car.

“Shall we?” she asked, completely nonchalant. As if she hadn’t just given him a handjob in the car, in the middle of the parking lot of a restaurant. He looked her up and down, that dress making her look innocent which she absolutely wasn’t.

“Now you know what I mean when I say that song’s about you,” he told her, glaring at her, but a playful glint shone in his eyes too.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, shrugging.

“You’re evil, Y/N Y/L/N,” he muttered, still glaring at her. He couldn’t keep it for long however, as a small smile started to grow.

“You love me,” she stated, laughing.

“Yeah,” he agreed, as he walked over to her. He held out his hand which she took instantly. “Let’s go.”

They walked into the restaurant, quickly spotting her family and walking over to the table. They all greeted each other and then Y/N sat down next to Jill with Dean next to her. She looked over at him, smiling to herself as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“You okay there, Dean?” David asked.

Dean looked up at him, an eyebrow raised before he let out a small chuckle. “Just fine, sir. A lot of traffic on the road… just stretching out my legs.”

She pressed her lips into a thin line, trying to keep from laughing as she looked over the menu in front of her. Her eyes flicked up to see Dean glaring at her discreetly, before looking over the menu too. She bit her lip to keep from snickering as she ignored his gaze.

As the first round of drinks came and went, Dean entertained everyone with more stories of his past, making everyone at the table gravitate towards him. He usually hated being the centre of attention, but when he was comfortable with people, he was the life of the party. Y/N couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she watched him. He had been so nervous to meet her family, but now he just fit right in. As dinner came, she had to wrangle Evie away from Dean, as she wouldn’t let him eat, wanting his attention too. However, as dessert came around, she was fully cemented in Y/N’s lap; the two of them sharing a bowl of ice-cream.

“Aunty Y/N,” Evie got her attention in a hushed voice, leaning close to her ear.

“What’s up, honey?” Y/N asked, her tone hushed too.

“Are you gonna marry Dean?” Evie asked in return, cupping a hand near her mouth, making sure that Dean wouldn’t hear her.

Y/N looked down at her, amused as she laughed. “Do you want me to marry Dean?”

“Yes,” Evie nodded, enthusiastically. “He’s nice and played with me today. I want him to be my uncle.”

Y/N chuckled quietly, kissing her forehead. “You think he’ll make a good one?”

Evie nodded as she put a spoonful of ice-cream in her mouth.

“Yeah,” Y/N said, smiling as she stroked her niece’s hair with her other hand. She looked over at him, fully immersed in a conversation about cars with Brian and her father, and felt her heart skip a beat. “I think so, too.”

After dinner, they said their goodbyes to Jill, Brian and the girls who went back to the hotel they were staying in. Dean happened to be having a guys’ night with his brother and his friends the next day, so he invited Brian along. Jill was joining Y/N and her friends while their parents looked after the girls. Y/N was happy that her family would be meeting her second one, something that she had always hoped would happen. She was so elated that it finally was.

Dean pulled up outside his house, cutting the engine. He and Y/N both got out of the car, as she looked over to see her parents park her car in the driveway of her house. She closed her door and walked around to Dean’s side, smiling at him. She instantly moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She shook her head as she marvelled at him, pushing up on her toes despite her heels and leaning in, kissing him softly.

“What was that for?” he asked, when she pulled away.

“For being exactly who you are,” she replied, kissing him again. “Thank you for today. I know you were nervous, but god, you were incredible. I had no doubt that you would be, but I just wanted you to know that.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, smirking. “Helps that they’re all awesome, just like you.”

She blushed as she shook her head, looking up when her parents approached them. She stepped back from Dean, opening her purse and taking out her keys.

“Give me those, and you stay here tonight,” Meredith said, gesturing to the keys.

“Mom-” she started but her mother cut her off.

“Nope, I know what you’re going to say. We know where everything is now, so we’ll be fine,” she stated, a small smile on her face. “And don’t try to argue with me. I know you both need your time together, too.”

She added a quick wink directed at Y/N, while David wasn’t looking. Y/N’s eyes widened as Dean cleared his throat, having seen the gesture.

“Mom,” Y/N gritted out, nodding over to her dad.

“Oh, trust me, he didn’t hear.” Meredith leaned over, kissing her cheek. “Goodnight, honey. Goodnight, Dean.”

“Night, kids,” David said, leaning in and kissing her cheek, too.

“Goodnight, Meredith. Goodnight, sir,” Dean nodded at both of them. They waved them off and watched them go into Y/N’s house, closing the door behind them.

They both walked up the driveway and into Dean’s house. Y/N walked into the kitchen and got herself a glass of water as Dean locked up, walking in after her. She took a sip but put the glass down, watching him. He smirked at her, raising an eyebrow.

“I think…” he trailed off, walking closer to her. “I need to get you back for that little stunt you pulled in the car.”

She smiled that naughty smile he loved so much, but it suddenly dropped into an innocent look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She really was the perfect combination of sweet and mischievous. All good girls were.

“Oh really?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

Suddenly, he dropped down quickly, wrapping his arms around her legs and lifting her up. He swung her over his shoulder as she squealed, lifting up his hand and landing a spank on her ass, causing her to yelp and laugh.

“Dean! Oh my god!” she cackled, hysterically as she hung upside down. “Put me down!”

“Nope. I’m taking you to bed, sweetheart,” he growled, his voice low and husky. It always told her what kind of mood he was in. “Teacher’s the one learning a lesson this time.”

Dean took off down the hallway with a laughing Y/N over his shoulder, ready to get her back in the best way possible.

-x-

Tags: @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @downanddirtydean @jensengirl83 @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @flamencodiva @ellewritesfix05 @roonyxx @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma @parinarain @thoughts-and-funnies @mandalou29 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @superaveng @supernatural-love14 @vicmc624 @prettyboyswow @lunarmoon8 @supernatural-bellawinchester​ 

#spnkinkbingo #Life's Lessons Saga #Life's Lessons Time Stamps #Dean x Female!Reader #Dean x Female!Reader Series #Dean x Female!Reader Fanfiction #Female!Reader Insert #Mechanic!Dean #Teacher!Reader #Dean x Reader Fanfiction #Dean Winchester Smut #Dean Winchester Series #Dean Winchester Fanfiction #Dean Winchester Fanfic #Supernatural Fanfiction

[the-bau-quinjet]

You can’t be gone, no

Chapter 13 of In Breakable Heaven! I would like to apologize for how long this took! I was really buys with work this week, but I’ve got the next chapter almost done already so it shouldn’t take too long. 

Summary: A bit of aftermath of the show, plus the show from Spencer’s perspective.

Word Count: ~1900

 Spencer’s POV

“Hey Spence. I miss you, but you already know that. I’m doing a sort of mini show at 7 tonight. It would mean the world to me if you came… Look, I get it. You don’t want to be with me anymore, but I don’t want you to disappear from my life completely. Not when I need you now more than ever… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m not trying to guilt you into coming, I just really want you to be there. For the moral support. The rest of the team is coming, so you won’t be alone. That’s it I guess. Bye.”

 He listened to the voicemail on repeat as he made his way to the venue where you were playing your mini show. He had no idea what to expect, but the idea of not supporting you hurt too much to stay home.

 After parking and walking inside, he managed to find the rest of the team. Turning to Morgan, he began to ask “hey, do you-” He was cut off by the sound of his phone ringing. Turning to look at it, he recognized the number as his Mom’s doctors. “Oh, it’s my mom’s doctors. I have to take this.” He retreated back outside the venue, answering the call on the way.

 It was really a simple call, only took a few minutes, but you had already started when he walked back in. Not wanting to disrupt anything, he took a seat near the back of the venue, shooting Morgan a text that he probably wouldn’t need to go to Vegas.

 “…how I was feeling about a month ago. Before everything happened. It was the happiest I have ever been. I had a great group of friends, a job I loved, a hobby that helped me bring some of that joy to you guys, and… a perfect boyfriend. Most of that is still true and for that I am incredibly grateful. Without further ado, here we go!”

 His heart hurt to know that he was the part that wasn’t true anymore. He immediately recognized the song as it began to play. He memorized all of Taylor Swift’s songs in the months he’s spent with you in your apartment listening to the range of playlists. It’s honestly a good thing he got that call because he started tearing up almost instantly realizing how happy you were when the two of you were together.

 I want to drive away with you. I want your complications too. I want your dreary Mondays, wrap your arms around me Pr-aby boy.

 His breath caught in his throat when he heard the slip up. You used to change the lyrics to all of Taylor’s songs to be about him. “Wrap your arms around me pretty boy” is exactly what you used to sing to him. The range of emotion he was feeling surprised him. He expected this to be painful, but not this much.

  “Thank you! Thank you! This next song is kind of a complete about face. 180 degrees if you will. Actually” you pause to think, “it’s more like 540 degrees.” He watches as you take in the confused glances from the audience, searching the crowd for someone. “I feel like I went through every emotion possible, returned to where I started, and then was forcefully turned in the opposite direction.”

  “Clearly, you can tell why I was so happy a month ago. Paper Rings is kind of obvious in that sense. But, 3 weeks, 4 days, 6 hours, and 27 minutes ago every possible ounce of that happiness disappeared.” He froze knowing that exact amount of time meant your happiness disappeared not when you were abducted and tortured, but after he left your apartment that night.

 “ For those of you who don’t know, I recently went through a fairly traumatic event. My good friends at the FBI saved my life. But after I left the hospital with a new found relief, I went home and my boyfriend, well I guess ex-boyfriend, came over.” He could see the tears forming in your eyes even from his place in the back of the crowd, and it only hurt him more.

“He didn’t tell me why, but he broke up with me that night. He said he didn’t want to do it while I was in the hospital, so he waited. I’ve had a lot of time to think it over, and I might know now why things changed. But even if I’m wrong, he left. And now, he won’t talk to me. Now I know what you’re thinking. This guy sounds like a complete asshat.” He couldn’t help thinking that was a massive understatement.

 “And maybe you’re kind of right. But he’s been through more than I could even explain, and I know that it is slowly killing him to know that I went through barely a tenth of what has happened to him. Especially because I know he blames himself. So, I have this next song. To try and explain how him leaving is worse than anything that happened in that building. ”

 Again, he immediately recognized the next song that began playing. Haunted, especially the acoustic version, was one of the few songs you saved for when you were so sad nothing else helped. He knew how much pain you must be in to even listen to this song, let alone sing it in front of the crowd.

 By the time you reached the bridge, he could already feel the tears streaming down his face.

 I know. I know. I just know, you’re not gone. You can’t be gone, no

 The way your voice sounded like it completely broke when you sang “no” made his heart wrench. He had his head in his hands. He felt completely useless. This kind of pain was the exact thing he was trying to prevent. He didn’t think you would still feel so strongly about him 3 and a half weeks later.

 “I know what you’re thinking. What the hell happened to you? Well, a lot. But that song, the first song, and the last song are all to the same person. The one person in the world who understands me more than anyone else. You should all know, however, the ‘he’ I was referring to when I sung ‘he will try to take away my pain’ is none other than my therapist. Thanks for the all the help Doc, I’m trying to do what you said. The last song I have for you is what I wish I had the chance to say that night 3 weeks, 4 days 6 hours, and 33 minutes ago. It’s something I need you to know.”

 He doesn’t know how, but he knows you are talking to him when you finish the last sentence. He lifts his head to look at you again as he once again recognizes the song. His favorite line in this particular song was always:

 You keep, his shirt. He keeps, his word.

 He knows exactly which promise you are referring to this time. And he knows that he didn’t keep it.

 You can see it with the lights out.

 Before the two of you even started dating, he promised you he would always be there.  No matter the time of day.

 You are in love, true love.

 No matter where he was in the country. No matter what he was doing, he would drop it to help you if you needed him.

 You're in love.

 And he failed. He left when you needed him most. And he had no idea how to fix it.

  “Thank you all so much for coming! We can only hope for and work towards a better future than the present we find ourselves in. Goodnight.”

 You’re right. He is in love. And apparently, so are you. All he knows in this moment is that he has to fix things. He has no idea how, but he has to at least try.

--

Y/N POV

It felt like hours, but it had only been about 15 minutes when you heard a knock on your door. You somehow managed to stop crying and wipe your face before answering the door. You were met with the concerned expressions of almost all of your friends. They rushed in to take turns hugging you with varying degrees of sadness and anger in their voices.

Morgan probably noticed you looking around them all when he said “Reid wanted to come, but something came up with his Mom.” After hearing that, you immediately shifted from your spot on the floor. All you felt now was concern for him. “Is she okay? What happened?” The genuine sincerity in your voice was no surprise to anyone. You have always put everyone else’s feelings above your own.

“He didn’t say what happened, but he said he probably wasn’t flying out so it will be fine.” Morgan responded. The room shifted into silence, not quite awkward, but not comforting either. JJ chose to break it “Why didn’t you tell us what happened? Or even that you were seeing anyone?”

You shifted your gaze to her face from its previous resting place on the floor, you sighed. “I don’t know really. At first, it was because it was like a game between us. We actually had a bet going about which one of you guys would figure it out first. I was actually planning to tell you all at Rossi’s last family dinner, but then with everything that happened it just…” You stopped to force yourself not to cry again. It was killing you that they didn’t know who you were talking about, although they were probably figuring it out as you continued to talk.

“Y/N” you had never heard your name spoken so softly by Morgan before, “what can we do to help? Do you want me to kill him? The team can probably hide his body.” He tried to joke. You managed a weak smile in response.

“No. The truth is I’d rather feel like this in a world with him than be happy in a world without him. I… I was supposed to meet him for dinner that night, but he had to cancel. That’s part of why he blames himself. Or at least I think so. I genuinely haven’t talked to him about it.” Admitting that truth was a lot easier than you expected. You rose from the ground to change the song, knowing exactly which song might help you. Before you could get to your phone though, there was a knock on the door. You signaled for Rossi to answer it since he was standing the closest.

You turned to see Spencer Reid walk into your dressing room. “Hi Y/N” he said in a sad greeting.

“Morgan said you had to talk to your Mom’s doctors, is she okay?” you responded, your concern for your friend’s mom returning.

“Oh, uh yeah she’s fine. They just wanted to switch her medicine again. Thanks for asking.” You nodded in response, not knowing what else to say.

“I think, um, I think I’m just gonna go home now.” You said, staring at the floor to avoid everyone’s sympathetic looks. “I just want to go to bed and hope for the best, ya know?” You began pushing your way through people, your bag on your shoulder.

Spencer grabbed your wrist as you passed him, giving you a pleading look. The tears began to fall again as you looked at him, gently pulling your arm away. You couldn’t do this here. Not in front of everyone. Not when you hadn’t even told them it was Spencer who left you near catatonic staring at your apartment door. You turned and ran to your car before they could stop you.

--

 tag list:

@mac99martin​ @goldeng1rl8​ @eevee0722​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @haylaansmi​ @dinonuggets15 @laurakirsten0502​ @green-intervention​ @burnin-passion​ @takeyourleap-of-faith @secretpickleprofessordean​ @awkwardnesshabitat​ @loveheathens​ @fan-girl-97​ @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat​ @akuri-shinsou​ @prongsyy​ @panhoeofmanyfandoms​ @sherlockmarvelharrypotter​ @lizziebritish​

#spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader

[sigynpenniman]

Julian Bashir Playlist Time!!

Apple Music playlist (if you're a heathen and subscribe to apple music like me) here

I know that there's plenty of people making playlists, but I really feel like this is an under-utilized brand of fan content. Instead of attempting to create a list of songs that Julian would listen to, or a playlist of songs which were all lyrically directly applicable (though there certainly some of those in here) regardless of genre, I tried to create something which captured, above all, his vibes instead, by choosing songs that balance at least somewhat relevant lyrical content with the energy or feel that I associate with the character. What it means matters, but not as much as how it makes you feel. That said, I signed up for apple music and read a TON of those overwrought iTunes store album review descriptions while I was making this, so I have a whole lot to say about all my choices here. In depth explanation of my symbolism and methodology behind each song under the keep reading. (I love tumblr. I want to write 1,000 words of analysis about why I picked songs to represent Julian Bashir and some of you are gonna read it. This is where I get to pretend to be one of those iTunes music writers. I feel joy.)

Good Morning - Two Door Cinema Club TDCC's Gameshow is high on my favorite albums of all time list for nebulous reasons I myself don't really understand. It was this album, though not this song (but one that will pop up later) that actually inspired me to make this playlist to begin with, as for some reason, from the color scheme of the album cover, to the overall vibe, to the ever-present references to illness, injury, surgery and healers in the lyrics, the whole thing feels inescapably Julian to me. And with an opening like I'm a sinner/I'm the victim/I'm an alien when I'm myself/I'm a healer/I'm a fixer/I'm a present danger to my health/I'm so strong/Doing what I'm supposed to do/ There's something wrong/With somebody like me, it's hard NOT to think about Julian when you hear this song, and I can't think of a better way to start this off.

Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood I think there's a joke somewhere about bisexual people all liking Sweater Weather, and yeah, I resemble that remark. Sweater Weather is just good. You'll notice there's a sort of chill-indie-alt-electronic thing going here, and that is very much the vibe I'm sticking with. Sweater Weather slots in beautifully, both sonically and thematically. As the singer looks to warm and protect the person he's with from the cold, you can't help but feel a loving coziness coming off of this one. It always makes me feel cozy, at least, so it's here.

Gooey - Glass Animals I have nothing to analyze here because the artists themselves have said that the lyrics of this song have no meaning, they're just meant to capture a vibe, and capture it they do. Close your eyes and ride the vibes of this one. The energy is right, I love it, it belongs here.

Blue - Mika I could probably write a couple hundred words on Blue alone, in any context. This might be my beloved Mika's magnum Opus. Opening the song with the inherently counterintuitive lyric Blue is a feminine color, Mika manages to pack it ALL into this 3 minute song: questions about gender; concepts of sadness, joy, and their intersections; of the perception of melancholy as a flaw and loving people despite, or maybe because of, those "flaws" and anything else about them; a powerful first person reassurance that made me start weeping in my car the first time I heard it; just the phrase "why are humans cruel to you." And oh boy, ARE there questions of gender. Why is blue NOT considered a feminine color? Is that a good thing, a bad thing? In 3 minutes of artful poetry, Mika manages to wrap up sadness, love, joy, pain, the feminine that exists within the masculine and the masculine that exists within the feminine, in the simple color of blue and then, in one lyric, validates it all. And on a much simpler and more obvious note, this is in fact all a philosophic musing on the symbolic meaning of the color we see Julian wearing almost all the time (when he's not in uniform, almost all his civvies are also shades of blue.) I feel like this is one of those songs that's hard to analyze because it does what music and poetry does best - communicate something that cannot be communicated any other way. With these broad themes of loving others around the things they can't love about themselves, you can decide for yourself if this one is coming FROM Julian or directed AT him, either works. I find myself struggling for exactly the words to explain this one, but listen to it; you'll understand.

Little Dark Age - MGMT Another choice with no obvious lyrical relevance, but the tonal fit was just too good to pass up. The vibes pass.

The City - The 1975 This song is one of several present because it leans on medical symbolism to get its point across, though I would be lying if I said I fully understood what that point was. But the entire second verse, apparently about the song's subject suffering from some kind of illness and reassuring him that the next one's the M.D./You'll be feeling just fine, seems somehow to transmit the discomfort of illness directly to the listener. I don't know how or why, but the effectiveness of the empathy the second half of this song elicits, in me at least, puts it squarely in the "odd medical vibes" category.

Surgery - Two Door Cinema Club THIS is the song that inspired this whole playlist, mostly because of its title and general vibe. Another example (of many) of medical/anatomical references in this album (another of the songs is called Fever, etc), this song just feels like Julian to me.

The Other Side Of Paradise - Glass Animals I really like Glass Animals. That is probably becoming obvious. Aside from its delightfully cohesive vibes, this song opens with what's simultaneously the slyest and most brazen gay lyric I have heard on the radio recently, as the male singer says When I was young and stupid my love left to be a rock and roll star/HE told me... The song seems to be about a man whose male lover left him in pursuit of fame and fortune, and eventually ends up with a woman, leaving the singer behind. It's got simultaneously subtle and obvious gay themes, it's got confused love affairs, it's got so much bisexual energy. I cannot think of anything that could be more Julian.

Sit Next To Me - Foster The People Kind of like Sweater Weather, this whole song is built around a rather cute and sweet "sit next to me," and you can't help but feel a bit warm and cozy when you listen to it. I think it pairs with sweater weather well, and slides in with the rest of the picks very nicely.

Nothing Better - The Postal Service (the original band of the lead singer of Death Cab For Cutie) Another example of heavy surgical symbolism, the very first lyric of this song is Will someone please call a surgeon. This is actually a duet, and the singers speak of their real hearts to represent their emotional ones. Something about Your heart won't heal right if you keep tearing out the sutures always gets me and always will. And it vibes good. It vibes so, so good.

&Run - Sir Sly Sir Sly's &Run is my favorite song for driving too fast. It does an amazing job of musical onomatopoeia, talking about running while making you want to run. It's a song about running out of plans and running as far as you can instead, which is all very "I'm illegal by definition so I went to the farthest possible reaches of space." And like everything else here, it just feels good. It's also one of the only highlights here that I can actually see Julian listening to.

Cosmic Love - Florence and the Machine It's no coincidence that it seems like most of us who are invested in Julian Bashir are some flavor of genderqueer, be it trans, nonbinary, questioning, or something else entirely - the man's got a Gender with a capital G, and there's a whole lot going on in there. Between the words that were written for him on the page, and the words that were actually spoken, and the way he carries himself, Julian always seems caught between the white, western, and frequently toxic masculinity that the writers often seemed to want to imbue him with, and the very different, racially and culturally distinct masculinity Sid actually brought. But there's an undeniable element of the feminine in Julian too, at least by a traditional definition. The presence of this part of him at all, much less the fact that, in-universe, it's the more traditionally "feminine" parts of himself - the caregiving and nurturing aspects - that Julian seems proudest of or to like most about himself, is a large part of what makes his character so interesting, at least to me. So there was no way I was getting out of this without acknowledging that somehow, and I can't think of a better way to acknowledge a complicated relationship with the feminine side of one's own gender than with this world's own Celtic divine feminine, Florence Welch. I can't think of any better artist, at least that I know of, to represent femininity as a nonspecific ethereal goddess-concept. I basically spun the wheel of Florence here, as anything would have worked, but Cosmic Love felt very appropriate for a character who does in fact live in space. There could even be some Garashir in here, I think.

Dream Sweet In Sea Major - ミラクルミュージカル, or Miracle Musical, a sister act made up of members of Tally Hall I also couldn't leave off without acknowledging Julian's affection for classic lounge music, especially since it's the only thing about his taste in music that we actually know. But instead of tacking on some rat pack, instead I'm polishing this off with the incredibly chaotic and somehow also perfectly cohesive and calm Dream Sweet in Sea Major. It's got all of the vibes of a lounge singer but gone completely off the rails, which just seems perfect somehow. And it's also a very nice feeling to be left with, so it seems only right to put it at the end.

and if you've read all of this, I love you. Y'all didn't know I was this into music did you. but I am. oh boy. I AM.

#julian bashir #playlists #Spotify

[alinastracker]

hello my dear bonnie, if you're still taking prompts, can i suggest #47 👀 ?

LOVE THIS PROMPT!!! here you go my love<3

prompt: you’re casually seeing my roommate and think they’re in the shower when you strip down to join me and we end up screaming and my roommate thinks it’s the funniest thing and tries to set us up on a date

yikes at this going from a quick lil ficlet to 6.7k oof

would it be okay if i came home to you (explicit) (ao3)

Alina steps into the shower, wondering how the hell she ended up rooming with Zoya to begin with.

Don't get her wrong, she loves Zoya. But her raven-haired friend can be difficult, and she was supposed to have buffer. Originally, it was going to be her, Zoya, and Genya living together, until Genya backed out last minute to move in with her boyfriend David instead.

"I'm so sorry, but it just makes sense," Genya said to them over lunch one afternoon. "Besides, if things go how I think they will, you two will be on the same path that I'm on soon enough."

Zoya scoffed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Alina had the same question, considering both of them were hopelessly single.

Genya just sipped her tea and said in a sing-song voice, "You'll see."

At first, living with Zoya was fine. They agreed easily on most apartment related things; splitting up chores, rules about not touching each other's food, a timely heads up before having friends or potential sexual partners over. Zoya could get nit picky about a few things, like the lecture she'd given her on the proper position of the toilet paper roll. It goes over, Starkov, understand? Under is for heathens and natural selection is coming for them. But otherwise, things had been fine.

Until Mal.

He was a part of the friend circle she had surrounded herself with since freshman year. But there was something about Mal that had drawn her to him in a way that was different from the rest of the group — different from anyone else she had ever met. He was like a drug, a magnet, the missing link that had her saying, where have you been my whole life, when you're meant to be here beside me? So quickly he had become her closet friend, and as much as their group liked to tease them, they both denied feeling anything beyond fierce friendship.

But Alina was such a liar.

Which makes it her own fault, really, for ending up in this situation. Zoya could, quite frankly, be a bitch — but she wouldn't have gone after Mal if Alina had just owned up to her feelings.

Though she really could have told her about it sooner.

Alina had been studying in the living room one night when a knock at the door startled her. Zoya hadn't mentioned having company, and neither of them had ordered food. Hesitantly, she rose and stood on her tiptoes to peek through the peephole. Then her face lit up, and she swung the door open. "Mal!"

Saints, he looked good. He appeared freshly showered, dressed in a silky green shirt and dark jeans. He had actually put effort into his hair for once, and he had a small gold hoop earring in his left ear.

"Hey, Lina," he said, something a little off with the smile he gave her. As he passed by to come inside, she could smell expensive cologne.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, butterflies in her stomach. Her head was already filling with wild fantasies. He wanted to surprise her, so he showed up without notice. He put effort into how he looked, because he wanted to impress her. He was going to reveal his true feelings for her, and she would revel in the fact that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

Instead, Zoya entered the room and said, "He's here for me."

Mal had the decency to flush and offer a sheepish shrug. "I'm gonna grab some water," he said, and scuttled off to the kitchen. Of course, Mal had been here plenty of times before. He knew where everything was.

Alina had barely heard him though, Zoya's words repeating on a loop in her head. He's here for me. She knew what this meant, even as her mind tried to deny it. The room was spinning and she couldn't quite steady herself, like something had broken inside of her.

She swallowed, and as calmly as possible, said, "What happened to the heads up rule?"

Zoya arched a brow. "I texted you two hours ago."

Alina frowned and pulled out her phone. Sure enough, there was a text from Zoya. Got a guy coming over in a couple hours. She must have missed it, lost in her studies. But still, something in the text ignited anger in her chest.

"You could have said the guy was Mal."

Zoya shrugged, so frustratingly nonchalant. "What does it matter?"

It matters because I am so hopelessly in love with him, and you're supposed to be my friend, and now I have to blast music so I don't hear the sounds of you two fucking, she thought.

"He's my best friend," she said. "It's just a little weird, I guess."

"Don't worry, Starkov," Zoya said, turning toward the kitchen, probably to grab Mal so they could get the night started. "It won't affect anything between you two."

Alina waited until the two of them were tucked away in Zoya's room. Then she pulled on her old running shoes and slipped out — there was just no way she could be here, knowing what was happening in the room across from her own.

She ran with no destination in mind, pumping her little legs as hard as they could go, music pounding from her headphones. When she became too tired to go further, she checked her surroundings and sighed. Of course, her feet took her to one of her favorite places in the city.

It's not anything, really. A quiet street with an old abandoned building at the end of it. But on the building's brick wall is one of her favorite pieces of art. A mural of the sun, complex in its simplicity, using colors she had never seen used to express the sun before, yet perfectly capturing the feeling of a warm sunny day.

Alina leaned against the wall, slid down until she was sitting on the old, cracked sidewalk. Only then did she realize that she was crying. Turning off her music, she called Genya, and told her everything.

"You have to talk to Zoya," Genya said.

"No!" she said quickly. "I don't want her to feel bad. It's not her fault. And if Mal likes her — well, it's not like he's shown any interest in me. I'm not going to get in their way."

"Alina," Genya sighed.

"It's fine," she promised. "I just—" A sob escaped her throat, the pain overshadowing any coherent thought. It was not fine.

"Send me your location," Genya said, and Alina did.

She spent the night at Genya and David's that night, David promising he was more than okay with taking the couch so her and Genya could have the bed. Which was needed, because Alina had a lot more crying to do.

"Just don't tell Zoya," she said.

"Alina, I don't know."

"Promise, Genya. Please."

Finally, Genya sighed. "All right."

That was four months ago. Zoya had told her it wouldn't affect her close bond with Mal, but it had. Alina never invites Mal over anymore, too afraid that he'll come to watch a movie, sit on the couch beside her — much closer than most friends sit. They would point out everything terrible about it, because they loved to watch bad films together as they stuffed their faces with popcorn. Then the movie would end and Mal would say goodnight, but instead of leaving, he'd go to Zoya's room, and the popcorn they ate would sour in her stomach.

There were so many little changes, too. Like when they hung out as a group, and suddenly Alina was questioning every move she made around him. Was it still okay to playfully ruffle his hair, to sit close enough that their shoulders pressed together, to look at him like he personally hung the sun and the moon in the sky, all while Zoya was there to see? Was it wrong to look at his lips and fantasize about how they would feel against her own, pressed to her collarbone, sucking her most sensitive spots? Zoya and Mal were a casual thing, they had both said so. But still, the natural intimacy her friendship with Mal had built for the past two years suddenly felt wrong, and she hated it.

Needless to say, Alina has been looking into new rooming possibilities for next year. She can't do this anymore. Every time Mal comes over, she waits for them to lock themselves away in Zoya's room, and then she leaves. She runs to her sun, sometimes just sitting and letting her sad song playlist make her sadder, sometimes bringing her sketchbook to at least make art out of the pain.

But tonight she has a very rare opportunity — the apartment to herself. Only for a couple hours, but still. She has spent most of the time so far blaring music, and her neighbors probably hate her, but damn it, they can deal with it for a night.

She lets the music play as she takes a much needed shower. Sure, she could have gone the bath route, but she doesn't want to waste all her time getting clean. Alina has decided her hours alone should end with a much needed date with her vibrator and an Owen Gray video that she's going to watch without headphones.

Olivia Rodrigo's Brutal is pounding from her speaker, and though Alina's twenty-one, not seventeen, the lyrics hit all the same. She's so into the music, thinking about her life for the past four months, thinking about moving as soon as she possibly can, thinking yeah, it really is fucking brutal out here, that she does not notice the telltale signs of someone entering her apartment, and even more worrisome, someone entering the bathroom. Not until it's too late.

"Thought you were too cool for Olivia Rodrigo," a very male voice says, and then the shower curtain opens.

Screams fill the air from both of them. Alina's already holding her conditioner bottle, and on instinct, hurls it at the man's chest while her other hand reaches for her razor.

"Oi!"

Only then does her mind register that it's not a strange man come to sexually assault her, it's Mal. Her best friend. Her roommate's casual lover slash fuck buddy slash whatever. It's Mal, completely naked before her. She gets a quick glimpse of his cock, half-hard, before he curses and turns around.

It doesn't help that his backside is just as nice to look at. He's well toned, muscles flexing as he reaches to grab the clothes he must have just discarded. He bends, giving her the most sinful view of his ass, and Saints, her mind goes wild. She pictures him turning back around and pushing her against the wall, slamming inside of her. As he fucks her, she would reach around and grab that delicious ass of his, dig her fingers into the plump skin, and leave little half-moon indents.

Mal is apologizing over and over again — "I thought you were Zoya!" — as he gathers up his clothes and makes a beeline for the door. Alina finally snaps out of her filthy fantasy and slides the shower curtain closed with a shaky hand. She leans back against the tiled wall, breathing hard. Her heart is pounding like never before.

The song is winding down. Olivia is crooning, God I don't even know where to start.

Neither does Alina.

~

By the time she musters the courage to finish her shower and leave the bathroom, her robe clutched tightly around her, there’s no sign of Mal in the apartment. Zoya isn’t back yet, either.

With a sigh of relief, she flops onto her bed. Her previous plans were out the window now. Taking a breath, she goes over the facts in her head. 

One: Mal has now seen her completely naked. 

Two: she has now seen Mal completely naked. 

It was the wrong thing to think about, because now she’s picturing the smooth expanse of his skin, his perfectly tight ass, and the quick glimpse she had gotten of his—

Heat pools between her thighs. She’s positively aching, when she should be feeling horrified. She should absolutely not be reaching for her vibrator as she lets the images of Mal’s naked body settle in her mind. It’s wrong, because Mal is, at least somewhat, Zoya’s, and Zoya is her friend. Besides, it was Zoya that he had come looking for, Zoya that he wanted to fuck against the shower wall. 

But Alina does grab her vibrator, and as it buzzes her to multiple releases, she imagines Mal shoving her against the wall, pressing kisses to her neck, fucking her like it’s his sole reason for existing. Fucking her like she’s his, and he’s hers.

~

She doesn’t see Zoya until the next morning, passing out sometime after orgasm number three. Saints, if the memory of Mal’s bare skin had been enough to keep her going for three rounds, she wasn’t sure she could even handle actually being with him. 

When she walks into the kitchen, Zoya is sitting at their tiny excuse for a table. “Good morning,” Alina says as naturally as possible. 

Zoya only says, “Sit down, Starkov.”

It’s unnerving, how quickly can could take over her entire body. Saying nothing, still going for casual, Alina sits across from her. “What’s up?”

“That’s my question, actually.” Zoya arches a brow. “What happened with you and Mal last night?”

Shit, shit, shit. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do. I know he stopped by before I got home. When I asked why he left, he got all weird and said something came up with Dubrov. But I know that’s a lie, because Dubrov was happily posting drunken stories last night. So obviously something happened when he was over.” Zoya sits back in her chair and stares her down, making her insides twist. “And since I don’t live with him, the only person I have to grill is you. So get talking.”

Alina sighs, knowing she isn’t strong enough to deny Zoya when she’s like this, and babbles out the story. Really, it wasn’t her fault. Mal was the one that walked in on her. It was just incredibly embarrassing for both of them. 

When she finishes, Zoya lets the information sink in, and then she laughs, harder than Alina has ever seen her laugh.

“Well I’m so glad this is funny to you,” she huffs, arms crossed over her chest.

“It is! I can only imagine your faces, shit.” Zoya wipes at her eyes. “Too bad you already know each other, that would make for one hell of a meet cute.” She pauses and says, “Well, it still could be your origin.”

Alina frowns. “Our origin?”

“You know, if you guys dated.”

She momentarily loses her breath. “What? No, you guys are a thing.”

Zoya rolls her eyes. “We’re fucking, Alina, that’s it. And actually, I was planning on cutting it off after last night.” She stands and pours herself what is at least her second up of coffee. “There’s someone else I’m interested in.”

“Someone else? Who?” Zoya says nothing. Alina pops up as it comes to her. “Oh! It’s that rich blond guy from the bar, isn’t it? The one that transferred here this semester. Nikolai or something, right?”

The tiniest blush spreads on Zoya’s face, and Alina squeals. “It is him! Saints, he’s attractive.”

“Yes, he is,” Zoya snaps. “And not bad for conversation, either.”

“Conversation?” She grins. “Why, Miss Nazyalensky, do you actually have feelings for this guy?”

Zoya scowls. “Shut it, Starkov.”

“Oh, you totally have feelings for him!”

“Keep it up and you will pay for this. I’m devising a plan as we speak.”

Alina just laughs. “Okay, Mrs. Whatever Nikolai’s Last Name Is.”

Under her breath, Zoya mutters, “Lantsov,” and stalks off with her coffee as Alina laughs harder. 

~

Zoya, apparently, hadn’t been kidding when she said she was devising a plan. 

When the weekend rolls around once again and Zoya texts the group chat they have with Genya about getting lunch, Alina jumps at the idea. She missed Genya, and it had been a hell of a week between juggling exams and thinking about her encounter with Mal. They haven’t spoken at all, and she had used her classes as an excuse to get out of any hang outs where he might show up. 

Zoya’s words from the morning after had been on her mind a lot, too. It still could be your origin. Could it? Was Mal even interested in her — and would he even want to try, after he’d had something with Zoya, or would it just be inevitably awkward?

Alina approaches the restaurant and sucks in a breath. She’s decided to finally tell Zoya about how she’s had feelings for Mal all this time, and maybe with her and Genya, the three of them can come up with what the hell Alina should do next. 

Zoya had texted five minutes ago saying she grabbed them a table in the restaurant’s outdoor patio, so she makes her way there. Only it’s not Zoya or even Genya waiting for her.

It’s Mal. 

He looks just as surprised to see her as she is to see him, and for a moment, she believes it really is some crazy coincidence. 

“Alina,” he says, standing. Neither of them can quite meet the other’s eye. “What are you doing here?”

Her hand is doing some nervous twitchy thing at her side, so she shoves it into the pocket of her dress. “I’m supposed to be meeting Zoya and Genya.”

Mal curses under his breath. “I’m supposed to be meeting Zoya, too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Shaking her head and feeling incredibly stupid, Alina takes out her phone and fires off a text to Zoya, WHAT THE HELL????

The next message she receives comes from Zoya — only not in the text chat between the two of them, but rather a newly created group chat with the two of them and Mal. 

consider this the official end to our fuck-mance, oretsev. yalls little bathroom flash show was the perfect opportunity for a new beginning, because yes, i see the doe eyes you give alina when she’s not looking. you too, starkov. i’m sorry for getting in the way for so long. have a good date, no throwing bottles at each other xoxo

They finish reading at the same time, looking up from their phones, eyes meeting before flickering away again. 

Mal sighs. “I think I hate her.”

“I think I hate her, too.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Alina bites her lip. Because he doesn’t want to do this, she thinks. “Oh, well, I guess—”

Mal cuts her off. “But it might be a nice chance for us to talk.” Her head snaps up, and this time when their eyes meet, neither of them look away. He smiles shyly. “I missed you this week, Lina.”

Her smile matches his. “I missed you, too.” 

They sit, and after the waiter takes their order for drinks and an appetizer for them to share — a sample platter, both of them too indecisive for any singular thing — Mal starts to stutter out an apology. Alina stops him with a hand on his arm. He looks down at where her fingers brush against bare skin, and she wonders if he’s thinking about all the skin they’ve bared to each other now. She certainly is.

“You don’t need to apologize, Mal,” she promises. “It was an accident.”

He shakes his head. “Still, I can’t imagine how terrifying that was for you.”

“Well, it was,” she admits, then adds, “at first.”

“At first?”

She shrugs, but says nothing, thankful for their drinks arriving to save her from answering. Because the truth was she had been scared for maybe three seconds. Once she had realized it was Mal, she’d only felt desire.

With their awkward shower encounter out of the way, they fall into fairly easy conversation, complaining about exams and projects, annoying classmates and neighbors. Soon enough, they’re back to being themselves. Alina pulls out her phone to show Mal all the memes and TikToks she had wanted to send him this week, and he does the same. Hours fly by without their notice, and now the dinner crowd is filing in. 

“Oi, I think our waiter is silently praying for us to leave.”

She laughs, pulling out her wallet. “Definitely.”

Mal waves her off. “Let me get it,” he says, taking his own wallet out. “I mean, since this is apparently a date and all.”

Alina hesitates, a little flutter in her chest even though he’d said it teasingly. “Okay, fine. But I’ll get the tip.”

“Deal.”

When everything is paid for, they stand. Going home is the last thing she wants right now, and not just because Zoya will be there. 

Mal looks ready to pull her into one of their standard hugs, but pauses. “Do you want to come over? We can find something shitty to watch. Mikhael and Dubrov will be around, but I just really don’t want to see Zoya right now.”

Alina smiles, the flutter in her chest returning with vigor. “Yeah, okay.”

~

At Mal’s flat, they settle onto the sofa together, close enough that their shoulders brush. Mikhael and Dubrov tease them about looking like lovebirds, but otherwise surprisingly leave them be. She doesn’t mind their company — but admittedly, she was glad they stayed to their respective rooms tonight. Mal puts on an indie horror flick that’s so bad it’s good, and they laugh and joke with each other throughout, per usual. 

About halfway through the film, they share a knowingly look — their that foreshadowing is so obvious, RIP to that character in twenty minutes look — and sport matching grins. But when the moment passes, neither of them looks away. 

“Alina,” Mal says softly, and her breath hitches. Has he ever said her name with such longing before?

His eyes flicker down — to her lips. She thinks of Zoya’s text then, basically calling both of them out for having feelings for each other. And while neither of them had confirmed it, they hadn’t denied it either.

Her heart is beating so fast. She gives him the tiniest nod.

Mal understands, he always does, and then he’s leaning in. Their noses brush before their lips do, and it could be silly or awkward, but instead it’s a different kind of intimacy she hadn’t known she wanted.

“Alina,” he breathes once more, and then he kisses her, so softly at first, it’s barely anything. Her stomach is doing cartwheels regardless. She takes initiative, kissing him back. Still soft, still careful, afraid that whatever this is between them is something fragile, something that needs delicacy. In some ways, it is. Her closest friendship, blossoming into something more. 

Mal lets out the softest moan, and it snaps something between them. 

He pulls her closer, his hand on the back of her neck, and now Alina is the one moaning, fervor replacing the softness, the delicacy. It’s the kind of kiss she’s been fantasizing about, made even better from how obvious it is that they’ve both wanted this for a long time. A desperate kiss bursting with desire. 

Alina shifts closer until she’s practically straddling his lap. Mal brings one hand to rest on her lower back, the other curling into her hair. His lips move to her neck, trailing down until he reaches her collarbone, where he nips and sucks, undoubtedly leaving a mark. 

“Mal,” she sighs, her head tipped back from the feeling as her hips roll against his. He curses against her skin. Her hands move to the hem of his shirt, ready to pull it off. 

All of a sudden, Mal pulls away, stopping her hands with his own. “Alina, don’t.”

She blinks her eyes open. “Do you want to move to your room?”

Mal bites his lip and shakes his head.

Alina frowns, any warmth in her chest turning cold. She quickly returns to her own side of the couch. “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted this.” Wanted me, she thinks but doesn’t say. Because he certainly had no issues with Zoya.

“I do!” he says quickly, taking her hand again and trying to pull her back. She holds her ground, pulls her hand out of his. “I do want this, Alina. Saints, I do. But this is technically our first date, right? I don’t want to do first date sex, not with you.”

Alina rolls her eyes, looking down and tugging at a loose thread on her dress. “Is this where you say something you think sounds respectful but really just puts down all the girls you have had first date sex with?”

“Alina, please look at me.”

Grudgingly, she does. 

“You’re different because you’re my best friend, and because I’ve been hooking up with our mutual friend.” She flinches, but Mal continues. “I don’t want you to think we have to have sex because of that. What I had with Zoya — it was good, and I care about Zoya, but it didn’t go beyond the physical. That’s all we wanted from each other. But that’s not all I want with you.”

Mal closes his eyes. Alina’s unconsciously holding her breath. He exhales and opens his eyes again, holding her gaze. “I want everything with you, Alina. I want your highs and your lows. I want to take you against the wall as much as I want to hold your hand.” He does so now, both of his hands around one of hers, and this time she doesn’t pull away. “And if you didn’t want to be physical? I’d still want you. I don’t want you to think there’s anything we have to do. That’s why I want to wait — even if I also want to take you to my room and pin you against my bed, too.”

“Oh,” she says, barely audible. Alina shakes her head, a little speechless. “I don’t know what to say.”

The corner of his mouth tugs up. “Was that too rom-com confessional?”

The tension breaks. She laughs and climbs onto his lap again, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You’re such a dork, but you’re the perfect dork. So we’ll wait.” She pauses and looks up at him with innocent eyes. “But will you kiss me again?”

Mal grins, pushes her down against the couch, and does just that. 

~

When she gets home, Zoya is waiting in the living room, reading a smutty romance book Genya had recommended. “Hey, how’d it go?” she asks, too casually to actually be casual. 

Alina ignores her and walks straight to her room. She’s decided to let Zoya sweat it out a bit for the weekend after her little stunt, even if it was successful. 

Though really, she didn’t think it would bother Zoya that much. Hard as steel Zoya, who never let anything get to her. But on Sunday, she bursts into Alina’s room, interrupting her studying. 

“Okay, I know you hate me now or whatever, but at least let me tell you that I’m sorry. I didn’t know how much you liked him, Alina. Not until Genya told me.”

Alina closes her book, frowning. “Genya told you?”

Zoya nods and sits at the end of her bed. “Recently, when I told her about Nikolai and that I was thinking about cutting things off with Mal. Don’t be mad at her, just be mad at me.” 

“Well—” she starts, but Zoya cuts her off. 

“And honestly? The worst part is, part of me did know. I saw the looks you gave each other, but I brushed them off because I was selfish and enjoying myself. I was a really, really shit friend to you, and I’m so sorry, Alina. You don’t have to forgive me, but I just—

Zoya stops mid-sentence, cut off by the laughter bubbling out of Alina. 

“Saints, I never thought I’d see the day that Zoya Nazyalensky grovels.” She shoots her a grin. “I accept your apology. And as much as I want to hate you for your meddling stunt, it worked, because we definitely spent the night making out. I just did the whole silent treatment to make you suffer a little.”

A moment passes — Zoya is completely still, too still — and then she grabs one of Alina’s pillows and smacks her with it. “You little rat!”

Alina only laughs harder, fighting off Zoya’s pillow attack with her hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say sorry non-sarcastically! You did so well, Nazyalensky!”

“And you’ll never hear it again! You’ve lost apology privileges! 

Eventually, Alina moves into the living room to study, and Zoya joins her. When their brains need a break, Alina tells her about her date with Mal, and Zoya tells her about her own with Nikolai. If this is their new normal, Alina finds that she really likes it. 

~

The next week is outstandingly better than the previous. She’s back to talking to Mal each day, even more than before. Halfway through the week, he sends her a song with the message, This song made me think of you the first time I heard it, still does every time. It has her heart beating extra fast as she listens on her walk to class, not only because it’s incredibly sweet, but because Mal has played this song for her before, months and months ago, which means he’s felt this way the whole time. 

Early Saturday evening, Zoya announces that she’s spending the night at Nikolai’s. “He has his own apartment, so it just makes sense. I’ll be home in the morning, probably.”

Thank the Saints for rich boys. 

She texts Mal, and Zoya’s barely gone for ten minutes before he’s there. They make dinner together — well, Alina sits on the counter while Mal does the actual cooking, but he spends any down time kissing her, so she likes to think she was the moral support. They eat on the couch, watching their favorite trashy reality television, and play a few rounds of Mario Kart afterwards. Really, it’s just like how things were when they were simply best friends, except now Alina drapes her body over his as they watch their show, Mal’s thumb moving in slow circles on her ankle, and instead of talking or playing on their phones during ad breaks, they pick up where they left off in the kitchen, their lips pressed together in a blissful ease. 

They’re on their fifth game of Mario Kart, Alina in the lead, as she has been every round. She’s bragging about how she’s going to beat him again when suddenly her vision is blocked as Mal presses his lips to hers. 

Her surprise doesn’t stop her from dropping her controller and kissing back. She’s just getting into the kiss when Mal pulls away as quickly as he had started the kiss. He stands, and only then does she see he never dropped his controller. Picking up right where he left off, he steers Luigi towards the finish line. (“Who the hell picks Luigi?” Alina had asked him once. To which Mal responded, “It’s not fair people only care about his brother when he probably works just as hard at their plumbing business. It’s just like people only knowing Adam Levine and ignoring the rest of Maroon 5—” which led to a very cute rant that Alina spent less time listening to and more time staring at his lips while he was distracted.)

Alina fumbles for her controller, but it’s too late. Mal hasn’t come in first — some of the computers still beat him. But he’s beat her, which by the smirk on his face, was his only goal.

“You’re such a cheater!”

“It’s not cheating, it’s strategy.”

“I suppose you need your strategy, since you don’t have any skills.”

Mal raises a brow, a devious look in his eyes. “Is that so? Perhaps I should show you my skills, then.” He moves in front of her and kneels on the couch, a leg on either side of her body, essentially pinning her there, and kisses her again. 

Immediately, she can feel the difference from the strategy kiss and even the ones from earlier that night. He’s kissing with purpose, cradling her face with one hand, the other on her waist, and Alina is melting against him. She is putty in Mal’s hands, his to mold how he pleases. 

He’s holding himself so that his weight isn’t pressing down on her, but that’s exactly what she wants. Her hips buck up against his, and Mal pulls back to moan, “Fuck, Alina,” so she does it again.

“Please tell me we can have second date sex.”

Mal chuckles. “Are we even going to bother with the dating process?”

“I don’t know, are we?”

“I don’t know. Do I need to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

Alina grins. “I wouldn’t mind hearing it.

“All right. Alina, my beauty, my beloved, will you bless me with the honor of calling you my girlfriend?”

Her grin widens, and giddy butterflies dance inside her chest. No, not butterflies — fireflies. She can feel their warmth and wouldn’t be surprised if she was glowing from their light. “Oh, I suppose.”

Mal laughs. “I can’t stand you,” he says, and kisses her again.

Alina returns the kiss for a moment before murmuring against his lips, “You don’t have to stand me, but now that you’re my boyfriend, can you fuck me?”

He practically growls as he says, “Saints, yes,” standing and lifting her with him. Mal brings them to her room, kissing her the whole way. He unceremoniously shoves her school books off of her bed, laying her down and crawling over her. “You don’t know how often I’ve imagined this,” he murmurs, lips on her throat. 

“Tell me,” she gasps.

“Every time I came over, Alina. Every time.”

A shiver runs down her spine. “Even when you were here to—”

“Especially then.”

She has no idea what to do with this information. Her head is empty of thought save for the screaming need for more of him, so she pulls his shirt over his head. This time, Mal doesn’t stop her. Her hands roam over all the places she’s been dying to touch; down his back, tracing along his spine, up over his stomach, fingers running along the muscles of his chest, brushing over a few scars he’s accumulated through the years.

“You’re so perfect,” she whispers. Smooth in some places, rougher in others, but so incredibly warm everywhere.

Mal tips her chin up, kisses her lips once, hard, and then another to her jaw, down her neck, her collarbone. Then he’s the one tossing her shirt aside, his lips continuing their decent. He’s pressing soft words into her skin as he kisses her — beauty, beloved, cherished, my heart —murmuring his love for her even as he brings her nipple between his teeth.

“Shit, Mal,” Alina breathes. Her hips keep bucking, far beyond her control. He chuckles, murmurs something along the lines of no patience, and quickens his pace. Soon enough, he’s got her undressed completely — which isn’t too unnerving after the shower incident. Any lingering nerves flee once his head is between her thighs. She’s suddenly very thankful Zoya isn’t home, because even though it’s never been a problem during sex before, she absolutely cannot control the noises she’s making — and she’s loud.

Mal returns to her with glistening lips. She kisses him and tastes herself, a thrill better than any rollercoaster. Her hands move to the waistband of his pants, giving a half-hearted tug. “Off.”

“So lazy,” he teases, unclasping the button on his jeans, tugging down the zipper. “I could always make you work for it.”

“Have mercy on me, Oretsev. I’m still recovering from the pleasures of your cocky mouth.”

He looks so proud of himself, she wants to kiss him just to wipe the smirk off of his face. “If you enjoyed my cocky mouth, just wait until you feel my—

“Do not finish that sentence.”

But then he’s pushing down his boxers, and all Alina can do is stare as the cock in question springs free. He’s fully hard this time around, and her thighs squeeze together at the sight. He watches her as she practically drools over his dick, his smirk becoming even, well, smirkier. She reaches out and curls her fingers around his length, giving him two quick strokes — both to clear the smirk from his face and because she so very much wants to touch him. 

“Fuck, Alina,” he hisses. He’s reaching for his jeans, probably to grab a condom from his pocket, but she grabs his hand.

“I’m on the pill, and I’ve been tested recently.” Of course, there’s still a slight risk. But it’s Mal — finally Mal — and she wants to feel every inch of him.

He pauses, then nods. “Okay.” Crawling over her, he takes one of her hands and intertwines their fingers. With his other hand, he grips his cock and drags the tip through her folds like the damn tease he is, eliciting needy mewling from her that he seems to enjoy. In her ear, he murmurs, “How do you want this, Alina?”

“I don’t want to be able to walk tomorrow.”

Mal chuckles softly, but the sound so close to her ear sends more shivers down her spine. “As you wish, moya solnishka.” My little sun.

She has only a brief moment to bask in the sweetness of his words before he’s slamming into her all in one go, anything sweet flying out the window. Mal keeps a steady rhythm while sucking on her neck, which is good, because all Alina can do is moan incoherently as her nails leave scratches down his back.

When he senses her getting close, Mal brings his finger to her clit, circling just right. “Saints!” she cries, and comes undone beneath him once again. But this time, she gets to watch him fall over the edge with her, his eyes so incredibly dark as he moans his release. He’s the only man she’s ever let come inside of her, and it feels very right that it’s Mal — she doesn’t want anyone else filling her like this, marking her in a sense as his spend drips down her thighs.

They stay like that for a while, foreheads pressed together, sweaty and sticky, but blissfully so. 

“So, is the sex still good on this side of the apartment?”

In answer, he dips his head and bites down on one of her tits.

“Shit, Malyen!”

“Ridiculous questions get ridiculous responses,” he teases, then wraps his arms around her, tucking his face into the crook of her shoulder. “You’re all I’ve wanted for two years, Alina, and this still beat my expectations.”

Smiling, she rests her chin against the top of his head. “Good. I would hate to have to start fucking in Zoya’s bed just because you like the airflow better there.”

“Smart ass,” Mal mutters, but he’s smiling. Then he says, "You know, this may not be my first time fucking in this apartment, but I’m still checking off a first tonight — of many, I hope.”

Alina rolls her eyes. “Yes, I’m aware this is your first time fucking me in this apartment, dumb ass.”

"That’s not what I meant, rude ass.”

She frowns. “Then what did you mean?”

He squeezes her hip. “It’s my first time spending the night.”

Her heart does a little jump in her chest, and she doesn’t even have it in her to tease that she hasn’t actually asked him to stay yet. But stay he does, though he gets her off a few more times before they pass out for the night — definitely beating her vibrator. One time it’s with his fingers, so incredibly long that she knows all her fantasies will involve the slender digits now. Another is after Alina murmurs about how filthy she is and that she really ought to take a shower. 

Mal waits long enough to join her that she starts to worry he hadn’t understood her intent. But then she hears his footsteps, and the shower curtain opens. There’s no bottle throwing this time, though she can’t say the same for the screaming. He steps into the shower, kisses her slowly, sensually, then pushes her back until she shivers from the feeling of cold tile against her bare skin.

“I meant to ask, you do know you have mirrors in here, right?” Mal murmurs huskily into her ear. She’s too disoriented with want to understand until he says, “I saw you staring at my ass last time.”

Then he slams into her, and Alina no longer has to imagine how it feels to be fucked against the shower wall.

#malina #malina fanfic #alina starkov #malyen oretsev #grishaverse fanfic #college au #PHEW THIS TOOK MUCH LONGER THAN EXPECTED #because i wrote much more than expected sksksksk #but this time i think i'm happy with what came out #i will never tire of writing these two idiots in love so i hope yall don't tire of reading me writing these idiots in love teehee #this one is steamy folks! #TY FOR THE PROMPT LINA I HOPE U ENJOY!!!! #writing #mine #ps the song he sends her is in the title teehee #for inquiring minds #also i've only read through this once so sorry in advance for the inevitable typos lmao

[ladybeug]

Okay remember the chloe breakup playlist? 

@peachesandheather​ and @chaotictaste​ THANKS FOR ASKING i know its way later but i would LOVE to break this playlist down lets get GOING! 

this is a follow up to THIS post. 

CONTEXT:  for this fanmix to read correctly, you need to know its an aged-up AU. Chloe’s grown a bit already, and she’s learned to value making other people happy just for the sake of making them happy. She joins the superhero gang and they all reveal identities and she dates marinette for a bit but realizes that marinette is still into adrien, and so chloe breaks up with her. That’s the facts, theres a drabble about it here if you want more emotional depth. 

LISTEN HERE ON SPOTIFY and follow along. There will also be links to youtube lyric videos if you prefer that. 

Without further ado: 

The Louvre - Lorde 

This is a key track. The title track. 

The metaphor of the louvre itself really sits with me. On the one hand, it’s The Louvre - an internationally recognized place to Put Important Things. What’s more, to put Art - beautiful things that defy description. And yet we keep trying. On the other hand, it’s The Louvre - there’s a suggestion that you’re not supposed to touch it. It’s precious enough that it needs to be preserved and displayed carefully - don’t knock into it. That’s a scary new relationship. Something extremely precious that you almost trust. 

Now remember the louvre metaphor, that one comes back in track 7. 

The rest of this breakdown is under the cut to spare the poor people just trying to scroll through tumblr. You guys enjoy your evening. Everyone else, follow me!!

If you’re reading this i love you thank you for indulging me. 

 You’re Gonna Make me Lonesome When You Go - Madeleine Peyroux 

Despite not being the title track, this is the song that inspired the whole playlist! I love it. Its layered. 

I like to imagine Chloe has a moment, like the calm before the storm, when she realizes she has to break up with marinette, and she feels almost zen about it. Maybe she’s been struggling with trying to open up and be vulnerable and ask for love. And finally she decides she doesn’t want to ask for love anymore, she’s tired of it, and she’s going to go back to pushing people away. For a moment it’s just a relief to stop trying, it’s comforting to revert to who she used to be in the face of losing marinette. 

This song has a resigned feel to it. It feels like someone who doesn’t quite really believe they deserve love. That’s a theme throughout this playlist too.

Lastly, in the context of the AU - chloe would feel good about giving marinette a chance to be with someone she really wants to be with. She’s grown a lot since she was a kid and likes to be the kind of person who cares about others. It’s bittersweet but feels a little... right. 

Call it Off - Tegan & Sara 

They break up. 

Paper Bag - Fiona Apple 

Chloe takes it back, it doesn’t feel ‘bittersweet but a little... right’!! It sucks!! 

This one’s about chloe feeling sorry for herself about having to break up with Marinette. It’s bitter and frustrated, it says why can’t I have nice things?? It’s about being SO close to love - so close you could taste it - and having to cut yourself off. 

It also has that resigned feel to it - the need to starve yourself of love because you can’t have it. The disbelief in a happy ending, and a little bit of self blame.

Woke Up New - The Mountain Goats 

This is the other side of the breakup coin. If ‘Paper Bag’ is the bitterness and reflection on how chloe feels about breaking up, ‘Woke Up New’ is just about... not having marinette. 

It removes the self-reflection and the over-thinking. It’s just about loss. You miss someone. And I think chloe would miss marinette. She’s been lonely before, and for a while she didn’t feel lonely, and now she feels lonely again - it’s uncomplicatedly sad. It’s just a sad moment. 

Be Mine! - Robyn 

Okay now we turn up the tempo a little, we’ve been sad, we’ve been self-reflective, bring on the poor coping mechanisms! Turn up the volume, pour yourself a drink, and get a little mad about your breakup!

But also dont forget to be kind of resigned and defeatist about it. That’s still crucial and will continue to be crucial for a little longer. 

Fists Up - BLOW 

This is another key song, and is our second reference to the Louvre. 

But it brings a third, new aspect to the Louvre, that Lorde didn’t bring. The security of the Louvre. BLOW says, ‘my love is a fortress, my love is the louvre, but it can’t ever thrive if i’m forced to keep proving it’. There’s the same suggestion that love is worth valuing, but also reminds us that love is difficult to access - which is absolutely true for chloe, who protects herself instinctively. She’s always been very defensive, and part of growing has been fighting to overcome that instinct - it’s what let her get so close to marinette in the first place. But it didn’t work out, which is bitter, and makes her angry. There’s almost a self-righteousness, trying to blame someone else for not treating you precious enough. 

Also worth noting that this song is about the internal fight between hope and defeat in a relationship. Chloe ended the relationship with ladybug because she didn’t believe it would work, and she doesn’t believe she’s enough. But it’s so hard to stop hope, which makes defeat more painful.

Shampain - Marina and the Diamonds 

Remember when we started drinking to Robyn’s “Be Mine”? We are drinking a LOT more now and we are SO COOL and DONE thinking about this. We are NOT SAD ANYMORE!!! ITS FINE!! 

Hurricane Drunk - Florence & the Machine 

Chloe is still very drunk and is now being sad on purpose. 

Maps - Yeah Yeah Yeahs 

Now it’s 3 am and chloe is not that drunk anymore but she is soooo so so sad. Chloe misses her girlfriend sooo much. this sucks this sucks this sucks alcohol did not help??? how come that didnt work?? 

If you wanna get creative this is the scene where chloe shows up on marinettes balcony and makes a scene and marinette takes her home and tucks her in very kindly and very platonically. 

Gotta Have You - The Weepies 

This song is on the cusp of acceptance. This playlist is admittedly like... a little depressing, especially as I write it all out - theres a lot of wrestling with self-esteem, and fighting loneliness. That’s hard. This song is tired. It’s tried everything. 

It’s the thematic foil to ‘You’re Going To Make Me Lonesome When You Go’. Both songs have the same gentle, steady rhythm. In the first, chloe was in the relationship, sad but accepting that the relationship would end. Now, she’s out of the relationship, and she just wants to be back in. But there’s a little bit of that same acceptance. 

This song feels like saying out loud what you want, and even though you can’t have it, the fact that you know what it is and you can say it feels good. 

Go Ahead - Rilo Kiley

Alright guys we’re solidly in acceptance by now. We’re out of the heavy emotional woods. We’ve made it. 

This song is bittersweet and not a truly happy one, but it holds a genuine wish for someone else’s happiness that hasn’t appeared in most of the songs in this playlist. It’s reminiscent of the wish chloe had in the first place, to end the relationship not only to protect herself but to give marinette a chance to be happy. To do a good and selfess thing. 

It’s both. It’s sad and it’s good. It’s complex. 

New Years Day - Taylor Swift 

This is the third key song. And it’s a truly beautiful one. 

This song ties us back to the beginning, and says do you remember what all this fuss is really about? What was so important that you put it in the Louvre?

Chloe is still on a team with marinette. There’s a point at which she would have to choose to cut marinette off, or... figure out something else. This song is about figuring out something else. The ‘what comes next’ of a difficult relationship. They don’t get back together, but they stay friends, even if its weird, and even when chloe feels left out or marinette doesn’t know what to say. But they want to stay in each others lives. And it’s worth the work.

A Fairytale Ending - The Boy Least Likely To 

A reflection on how difficult it is to grow and face life head on, and how it changes you.

I Wanna Get Better - Bleachers

We have to have some closure here. It’s going to be okay. 

THATS THE PLAYLIST 

Pretty somber now that I have it all written out like that. but still a great one.

#chlonette #fanmix #i spent almost exactly two hours on this post #two hours well spent #now thats what i call recreation

[musicprincess1990]

The Best of Me - for ILY Anniversary 2021

This is inspired by the song by The Starting Line.  I was listening to my #TeenYears playlist (yes, that’s the title I picked, sue me), and I noticed the album cover featured the words, “Say it like you mean it.”  Um, hello TFP vibes!  And then I started the song over, paying attention to the lyrics, and BOOM!  A fic was born!  Starts out with a bit of post-TRF pining, leading up to a TFP finish. And it’s a long one, so catch the whole story below the cut.

Happy Sherlolliversary, everyone!  😘

*

Here we lay again, on two separate beds

Riding phone lines to meet a familiar voice

And pictures drawn from memory.

*

It started after the fall… some months later, in the midst of yet another doomed-to-fail relationship with some other not-him bloke.  Molly didn’t know why she seemed to measure time both by her own failed relationships, and by his major life events, but there you go.  After a ten-hour shift, a disappointing date, and an extra glass of wine, she was more than ready to pack it in for the night.

She’d only just hit the mattress when her phone buzzed, and she whimpered in dismay, assuming it would be Mike needing her for a last-minute post-mortem.  She considered ignoring it and claiming she’d been asleep, when a second text sounded. With a sigh, she rolled onto her side and unlocked her phone.  It wasn’t Mike after all, but two messages from a blocked number.  Again, she thought about ignoring them, not keen on starting a conversation with a stranger, when a third text came through, and she began to wonder… Sitting upright, she tapped on the notification and opened her messages, her heart leaping to her throat as she read:

IN A SAFE HOUSE IN SARAJEVO.  

COULD DO WITH A FRIENDLY VOICE.

MOLLY?

It had to be him… it just had to be!  No one else she knew had any need for a “safe house.” And besides that, no one else would have been so cryptic, so confusing.  Sherlock Holmes never talked about his feelings, in fact, half the time he pretended not to have any.  This was bordering on soul-baring for him!  Why?  Why now?  Why her?  Well, she supposed it the fact that the rest of his friends thought he was dead might have something to do with it.  Even so, what had happened to make him seek her out like this?

A fourth text came through, interrupting her thoughts.

MAY I CALL YOU?

Sherlock Holmes, asking for permission?  Now she’d well and truly seen everything!  Anxious and delighted and terrified all at once, she quickly tapped out a reply in the affirmative, and waited.  It couldn’t have been more than ten seconds before her phone lit up with the incoming call.  In her haste to answer it, she dropped the silly thing on the floor, swearing loudly as she flopped onto her stomach to reach for it.  And, of course, to her embarrassment, the line was connected, meaning he heard it all.  Molly pressed the phone to her ear and whispered, “Sherlock?”

A loud exhale, and then a familiar voice, “Hello, Molly.”

She let out a watery laugh.  “Oh, my God, it’s you!  How are you? Oh, God, stupid question—”

“Molly, it’s fine,” he cut her off.  “I am… as well as can be expected.”

Her brow creased with worry.  “Are you okay?  I mean, is it… going well?”

A beat of silence.  “As well as can be expected,” he repeated.

Clearly, she was not going to get a wealth of information from him on that front.  Not that she was certain she wanted all the gory details—knowing who he was dealing with, “gory” would most definitely be the right word.  Still, he had instigated this phone call, she wouldn’t let him get away with perfunctory answers.  Shifting a bit so that she was leaning against the headboard, she asked, “What made you decide to phone me?”

“You weren’t answering your texts.  Figured you had gone into shock.”

She chewed on her lip a moment.  “Well… you’re not wrong.  It did surprise me.”

“Yeeeesss, I’d gathered that,” he drawled in that posh, pompous tone of voice she never thought she would come to miss.

“Truth be told, it wasn’t just the fact that you texted that came as a surprise, it’s what was in the text.”  She paused here, waiting to see how he would respond.  When he said nothing, she went on, “I suppose even the great Sherlock Holmes needs to phone a friend once in a while.”

“Don’t do that,” he said abruptly.  “I’m not ‘the great Sherlock Holmes’ now, am I?  I’m just…” he hesitated for a moment, “…just Sherlock.”

Molly’s breath came out in a whoosh.  So that was why.  Just like she had before, when he looked sad, she saw him clear as day… even if she couldn’t physically see him.  This mission, this seemingly insurmountable task, she couldn’t even imagine how difficult it must be.  It had to be taxing, even for Sherlock, who always seemed so detached from the situations. But deep down, he was still a man, he still felt things, and he still needed friends.

“Molly?”

His tone was soft, but filled with anxiety, and she realized she’d been silent for some time.  She put on a smile, making sure he would hear it in her voice, and whispered, “I’m here, Sherlock.  What do you need?”

A quiet laugh sounded on the other end of the line, followed by a one-word answer: “You.”

*

*

We turn our music down, and we whisper,

“Say what you're thinking right now.”

Tell me what you thought about

When you were gone and so alone.

Sherlock’s phone calls became something of a regular thing after that. Whenever he felt a little too human, or when he didn’t feel human enough.  Molly was happy to act as his anchor to his old life, to keep him afloat when he could easily drown in the work, the pain, the loneliness.  Even when being his anchor often meant being woken up in the middle of the night.

She never asked him to explicitly talk about his thoughts and feelings, knowing what a minefield that conversation would be, but she always asked what he was doing, usually regarding his mission. That was familiar territory for him, talking over the details of a case, discussing the possibilities and bouncing ideas off another person.  It was this familiarity, she thought, that most soothed him, reminded him of home.

These calls varied in frequency and length over the years, but they always came.  Through the horrors he faced in dismantling Moriarty’s network, through her engagement to Tom, through his four-minute exile (ooh, she’d had some choice words for him about that), and though Mary’s tragic death.

He called her almost daily after that.  She wasn’t entirely sure he really wanted to hear her voice, or if, while John was being a git and ostracizing him, any friendly voice would do. She decided not to care, and to just be there for him anyway.

One call in particular stood out to her, the night of his birthday. They’d gone for cake earlier in the day, and he’d been pleasant enough, but awfully silent.  John had seemed almost back to his normal self, and Rosie was an adorable bundle of energy, effectively distracting all three adults from their own loneliness.

That night, she returned with Sherlock to Baker Street, for the “night shift.”  After a few minutes spent scrolling silently through his emails, he announced he was going to bed.  Molly waited a bit before shuffling up the stairs into John’s old room, which had been converted into a guest-room-slash-laboratory.  The door was left open in case Sherlock started puttering about in the middle of the night, she would hear him and be down to help him, if needed.

Molly had just settled onto the bed when her phone rang, and Sherlock’s name appeared.

What?

“Sherlock?” she answered hesitantly.

“I realize you’re just upstairs, and I could easily have gone up there or had you come down here, but this seemed a bit more…”

A little smile tugged at her lips.  “Familiar?”

He exhaled slowly.  “Yes.”

“It’s okay,” she assured him.  “I don’t mind.”

“Thank you, Molly.  For everything.”

*

*

Jumping to conclusions

Made me fall away from you;

I'm so glad that the truth

Has brought back together me and you.

“What is she doing?”

“She’s making tea.”

“Yes, but why isn’t she answering her phone?”

“You never answer your phone.”

“Yes, but it’s me calling…”

*

“If it’s true, just say it anyway.”

“You bastard.”

“Say it anyway.”

“You say it.  Go on, you say it first… Say it.  Say it like you mean it.”

“I-I… I love you.”

*

Molly dropped her phone as the line went dead, then slid to the floor as sobs wracked her entire body.  She didn’t… she couldn’t begin to think… why had he asked that of her? After all the years he’d known her, all the time he’d been calling her out of the blue… She’d never once asked him to…

Her stomach lurched, and she scrambled up to her feet just in time to vomit into the sink.  Her body felt hot and cold and shivery and aching all at once.  Funny, the scientist in her thought, how a broken heart can have noticeable physiological effects on a person. She was in fact ill, bit of a cold, but it was that horrible conversation, not a silly little virus, that had made her stomach decide to violently expel its contents.

That wasn’t the worst of it, though.  No, the worst part was finding an old letter Sherlock had written, sometime during his absence from London, near the end.  She remembered getting it in the post, and quickly shoving it into a safe, secret place, where Tom wouldn’t find it.  He was at her flat no more than five minutes later, picking her up for a date. He proposed to her that night, and she completely forgot about the letter… until today.  She’d found it while rooting around her cupboards, looking for her favorite citrus tea, the one she always made whenever she felt ill. Its contents had nearly shocked her cold right out of her system.

Dear Molly,

I don’t know if this letter will reach you. There are so many unknowns at the moment.  I don’t even fully know why I’m writing.  I simply wished to express my gratitude for everything you have done for me.  I know that I have caused you pain many times, and in all probability, I will do so again.  And yet, after seeing the absolute worst of me, you are still my friend.  That fact baffles me more than any other mystery I have encountered.

When I return, yours is among the first faces I look forward to seeing again.  I wish I could offer an estimated time frame, but that is one of the many unknowns I now face.  But the one thing that I know is certain, the one thing I can cling to, is that you are, and always will be, a dear friend.  You matter more to me than you realize, Molly Hooper.

Love,

Sherlock

Tears had welled in her eyes, and anger pulsed in her veins, boiling her blood with every word.  Anger toward him, for writing such a letter, instead of calling her.  It was cowardly, no matter how lovely the letter was (dear God, was it lovely!), and when he returned just a few months later, he said nothing.  He gave no indication that he even remembered the letter, or the fact that he’d written it!  Why?

Because you were engaged, a traitorous voice whispered. And then her anger shifted, now aimed toward herself.

If she had read the letter before Tom proposed that night… she would have said no.

And then she was angry with him again, for not fighting for her, not saying what was clearly visible between every word on every line of that damned letter.

He loved her.

Or so she had thought.

After that phone call… she couldn’t be sure of anything.  If he really loved her, how could he do this to her?  Forget making her say the words, as impossible as that felt, how could he treat it all like an experiment? Treat her like an experiment?  Her anger and her desperation battled through the entire conversation, with anger eventually winning out, though it expressed itself with an eerie calmness.

You say it first.

Well, he had.  But only because she’d told him to.

God knew he’d never have said it otherwise.

Molly trudged into the bathroom and brushed her teeth, washing away the sour taste in her mouth.  She never had finished making her tea, but she was too exhausted to even contemplate remaining upright for another minute longer than necessary.  Instead, she went straight into her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, falling quickly into a fitful sleep.

*

The knock on her door startled her awake, and somehow she knew exactly who it was, even before his voice followed the pounding, begging her to let him in.  She scowled in the direction of her door, rolled onto her other side, and smashed her pillow over her ear.  Eventually, one of her neighbors would complain, maybe even call the police. That, or he’d pick the lock… and if he did, she’d call the police.  Probably Greg, oooh, he’d love that!  There wouldn’t be any real consequences—big brother Mycroft had far too much pull for that—but it would be humiliating for Sherlock.  Served him right, after he humiliated her.

The pounding and the shouting stopped suddenly, and she foolishly let herself believe he’d finally gone.  But a moment later, her phone chimed with an incoming text.  Then another, and then another after that.  Equal parts annoyed and curious, Molly finally sat up and grabbed her phone to read the idiot’s texts.

PLEASE LET ME IN.  LET ME SAY IT AGAIN.

I DON’T WANT TO DO IT OVER TEXT.  YOU DESERVE BETTER THAN THAT.

PLEASE, MOLLY.

Unless…

Molly’s head spun by the end of the third text.  Say it again?  Did he mean…?  Oh, of course he meant that, what else could he be talking about?  But why the hell did he need to say it again?  Wasn’t once—well, twice—enough torture for one night?

A fourth text lit up her phone.

IF YOU WON’T LET ME IN, WILL YOU AT LEAST LET ME CALL YOU?

She almost laughed.  Answering his call was what got her into this mess, wasn’t it?  And yet, against her better judgment, that cursed curiosity forced her to type out a reply.

OK.

*

Sherlock sighed at the response, his hand shaking as he pressed the phone to his ear, listening to the dial tone.  He ran through a thousand opening sentences in his head in the time it took for her to answer the call, and the moment he heard her voice, forgot every single one of them.

“What do you want, Sherlock?”

Her voice was raw, probably from crying, and oh, how he hated himself for doing that to her.  But broken as it was, her voice was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.

“You,” he replied, his own voice matching hers.  “Always you.”

She sobbed, and the sound went straight to his heart, piercing it, shattering it.  “Then why—” she was interrupted by another sob, “—how could you—”

“I’ll tell you everything,” he said quickly.  “Everything you need to know, but not like this.  For now, I just need to say one thing.”  Sherlock drew in a breath, bracing himself.  “I love you, Molly.  I’ve loved you all along, before I even realized it.  I don’t know if… there was a letter I sent, but it must have gotten lost… I should have said it when I came back, but when I saw that ring on your finger…”  He swallowed. “I thought I’d lost my chance, that you weren’t in love with me anymore, that—”

The door opened, and there she stood, still wearing that ridiculous jumper, eyes filled with tears, and holding a piece of paper in her hand.  The letter.  His hand dropped to his side, phone still in hand, staring in wonder and confusion.

“I hadn’t read it,” she explained in a small voice.  “Not until today.  That’s… part of why it wasn’t a good day.  I’d gotten it the day Tom proposed.  Right before he picked me up.  I panicked and shoved it in the cupboard where he wouldn’t find it.  He never touched the cupboards, always left it to me to cook or make tea or… anyway,” she finished lamely.

“You didn’t read it?”

Molly shook her head, gnawing on her lower lip.  “I wish I had.  I wouldn’t have gotten engaged.”

“I am so sorry, Molly.”  His eyes fell shut against the pricking of even more tears.  “I should have told you every day, with every phone call…”

“I’m sorry, too,” she said, prompting him to open his eyes.  “I’m sorry for letting my anger get the better of me.”

He gave her a tentative smile.  “Understandable, considering the circumstances.  I tend to bring out the worst in everybody.”  To his delight, she laughed, and his heart lightened at the sound. In a more serious voice, he added, “You, however, bring out the best in everyone… including me.”

Molly went still, and Sherlock worried he’d somehow hurt her again, until she suddenly sprang at him and wrapped her arms around his middle, pressing her face against his chest.  Warmth erupted along his skin where she touched him, and his arms found his way around her, clinging to her, locking her against him.  He rested his chin atop her head, eyes squeezed shut to fight back the now-constant threat of tears.  Good Lord, he was a sop now…

Well.  If it meant Molly would continue hugging him like this, he’d be whatever she wanted him to be.

“You smell like algae,” she commented, her voice muffled against his shirt.

He must have been in shock, or otherwise delirious, for at her words, he burst out laughing.  Fortunately, Molly joined him, leaning back her head and grinning wildly.  “I suppose there’s a story that goes with that?”

“Quite a long one,” he nodded.  “And not a very pleasant one.”

Molly seemed to consider this, then gave a slight hitch of her shoulders.  “Later,” she said.  “I think a bath and a good night’s sleep are in order.”  She took his hand and led him inside, and Sherlock followed, happily leaving the worst behind them.  There was still much to say—so many words unsaid, his mind quoted at him—but for now… he just wanted to be with her.

Finally.

*

*

The worst is over,

You can have the best of me.

God, that took forever… I’ll be honest, this is still open to editing and rewriting.  There are a lot of things I want to add to it.  Hell, maybe I’ll even add a second chapter.  I don’t know.  But this song, OMG!!  Go look it up, listen to the rest of the lyrics.  ALL THE SHERLOLLY FEELS!!  Thanks for reading!

#ilyanniversary2021 #sherlolly #sherlolliversary #s4e3 #the final problem #sherlock fucking meant it #i don't care what anyone says #he meant it #it's canon dammit #4 years ago today! #well yesterday #because it's after midnight now #oh well

[litwitlady]

Omg I just know you’re gonna write the hell out of these sleepy prompts haha 37 or 3 for Malex :) can’t decide!

#3 - ‘Don’t be nervous, you can come closer.’

On the radio, a twangy country superstar sings about lost romance and broken hearts. Dirt and debris soaking up most of the sound. It’s midday and the junkyard is quiet. Michael is bent over a brand-new Silverado, engine already wrecked. He swears as he cuts his finger on a jagged piece of metal jutting out where it doesn’t belong. Sucks the wound between his lips and wipes the sweat from his brow. It’s only 10am but the day has already gone on for far too long.

He tosses his wrench onto his workbench and reaches down into his beat up cooler. His fingers glance across the long neck of a cold beer before settling around a half-frozen bottle of water. Twisting the cap off, he gulps down the entire bottle, eyes never leaving the beer. The day stretches out even further ahead of him, sober and sun-drenched.

Back beneath the truck’s hood, Michael cranks away at the broken, jangled mess. After all these years, the work is monotonous. Dull enough to let him loose inside his own head. He tries to drown out his hectic thoughts by humming along with the current song floating faintly from the radio. The same twenty-five song playlist in rotation damn near every day. Except on the weekends which are dedicated to decades past – golden oldies Michael considers the soundtrack to his youth. Lonesome melodies haunting the empty, loveless houses he’d once passed through.

He hums through two more songs, getting lost in his work. So lost he doesn’t notice when he starts to sing under his breath. So lost he doesn’t notice when the lyrics no longer match those echoing out from the radio.

Would you meet me in the middle, could we both stop keeping score

Michael sighs and presses his knuckles into his eyes. Alex’s song sneaks past his defenses at least once a day. And he’s found no cure. Not screaming along at the top of his lungs. Not biting his tongue bloody. Not refusing to listen to music for days on end. Nothing has worked. It always finds him no matter where he hides.

Resting on the truck’s bumper, he pulls out his phone and thumbs through his contacts. Leaving grease smudges behind. He stops on Alex’s number and sits staring – wondering what might happen if he actually went through with the call. Behind him, a soft whining breaks through his thoughts. He ignores the tiny noise at first. The junkyard is filled with whines – bad engines, metal signs blowing in the wind, the rickety roof shifting above the makeshift workshop. But the sound continues, and Michael decides to go investigate. He could use a good distraction.

What he finds is a blue-gray pitbull puppy inside a rusty yellow VW Beetle – windows all busted out and flowers growing wild through the wheels. Little paws propped up against the door, tongue swatting up at his nose. Michael approaches slowly – the puppy trembling and clearly terrified at his presence, disappearing into the car’s footwell.

A dog is not what Michael needs. He sighs and turns his back. But the puppy starts to cry again – more desperate now, lonelier somehow. He spins on his heels and yanks the door open, puppy scrambling away.

‘Don’t be nervous, you can come closer. Not going to hurt you, little bit.’ He reaches down and wraps his fingers around the dog’s soft belly. Picking him up and cradling him against his chest. He’s warm and still shaking, but he nuzzles into Michael’s t-shirt anyway.

A dog is not what Michael needs. He finds an unused crate and lines it with newspaper, tossing in a couple of clean shop towels for good measure. Places the pup onto the improvised bed and watches him squirm around, sniffing at his new home. His temporary new home. Because a dog is not what Michael needs.

He tries to climb out, tumbling over backwards. Tries again with the same results. Michael finds himself smiling – almost laughing. And he forces himself to look away. Digging around in his toolbox for the screwdriver he needs to keep working.

But it’s no use. The puppy keeps mewing and Michael’s heart can’t stand the pitiful noises. He hoses off a dusty hubcap and fills it with clean water. Grabs his phone and dials Maria’s number.

‘Guerin.’

‘DeLuca.’

They haven’t talked much since the hospital breakup. Polite hellos and sad smiles whenever Michael enters the Pony. But she’s the first person he thinks of when he considers his current predicament. ‘Do you have any dog food – or something a puppy could eat?’

He hears her whisper something over her shoulder and then, ‘What – a puppy? When did you get a dog?’

Michael sighs. ‘I didn’t get a dog. But there’s a puppy out at the junkyard. He needs to eat and I’m working. All I’ve got is some stale breakfast bars.’

‘Call Isobel. Or a vet. I’m working.’ She hangs up. He supposes it was too early to start asking favors.

But she’s right – he should call a vet. Or, better yet, drop the dog off at a vet and get back to his very simple, not at all complicated mutt-free life.

He calls Isobel instead.

‘Michael, make it quick. I’m at the Women’s Action Committee luncheon and about to give a speech.’ Other people might sound flustered before public speaking. Isobel sounds like she’s at a day spa.

‘Would you mind swiping some leftovers a puppy could eat and heading over to the junkyard after?’ The puppy in question starts to yip. Finally hoisting himself over the side of the crate and splashing headfirst into his new water bowl.

‘Oh my god, Michael. You got a dog?’ He can barely hear her over the clatter of the luncheon.

‘There is a dog temporarily in my care. That’s all. Can you help me or not?’

‘Not until later tonight. I’m meeting with the mayor about the abandoned UFO museum. We’re hoping to start a women’s shelter. Call Max.’ Someone shouts her name. ‘Gotta go, Michael.’ She hangs up.

The puppy’s ears are soaked. Dripping in the sand as he busily noses about. Tail wagging so happily his entire body wiggles. That’s the first moment Michael knows he’s in trouble.

Against his better judgment, he phones Kyle. ‘Valenti, you’re a doctor. Help me.’

‘I’m not a vet! And I’ve got surgery in thirty minutes. How did you even get my number?’ He hangs up.

Michael refuses to call Max on principle.

That leaves him exactly one option. One terrible choice. He scrolls back up to Alex’s number. But he can’t make his finger press the call button. No matter how hard he tries.

He plops down in the dirt and pulls the puppy to him. He nips at Michael’s fingers playfully and chews a hole in his threadbare shirt. Michael likes dogs – he does. Has always wanted one, but never had the ability to properly take care of one. Having barely been able to care of himself most days. ‘Wonder where you came from, little guy?’ He scratches the puppy behind its ears. ‘Where all your brothers and sisters wound up? Probably safe and sound in warm homes.’ He swallows, hating the emotion that has crept into his voice. ‘Snuggled tight in the arms of some little girl or boy.’

The puppy licks his chin and Michael hugs the puppy closer. ‘But you got thrown away. Or maybe your ran away, huh?’

Scrambling out of his arms, the dog hops back to his water and continues splashing about. Michael returns his attention to Alex’s phone number. ‘He probably won’t answer anyway.’ The puppy ignores him. ‘He has a boyfriend now.’ He rolls in the dirt, little feet pawing at the air. Michael leans back against the Chevy and closes his eyes.

He hasn’t seen Alex in weeks. Has worked tirelessly to avoid seeing Alex for weeks. But he has seen Forrest. Fucking everywhere. The hardware store – the minimart – the gas station. Back at the library and even at the grocery store late one night. In the goddamn cereal aisle.

‘Guerin.’

‘Forrest.’ Michael’s heart beating so hard it breaks.

‘See you around. Enjoy the cereal.’ And Michael had smiled tightly. Watched Forrest leave and imagined him driving straight to Alex’s and crawling into bed beside him.

When he reopens his eyes, the puppy is gone. The junkyard far too silent. Sun so hot everything looks hazy. ‘Where’d you go?’ Michael calls, panic bubbling up in his chest.

That’s when he hears the frantic yapping. He climbs to his feet and jerks around the corner of the Silverado. Eyes scanning the yard as quickly as possible. But the puppy is fine. Better than fine, even. Locked safely in the arms of none other than Alex Manes. Barking and licking at whatever bit of skin is closest.

Alex grins down at squirming puppy and then back up at Michael. ‘Hey.’ The dog barks and bites at Alex’s ear. ‘Is he yours?

The sight is overwhelming. Too much for ordinary afternoons at the junkyard. Michael’s eyes soften. ‘He is.’

#malex #malex fic #sleep prompts #Anonymous #more of the cozy side of the prompt lol

[jefferoni-quotes]

Jamilton Playlist - Updated

hey! so a while back i made a jamilton playlist, but since then i’ve added and removed a few songs. some songs have simply been removed because i dont enjoy them anymore. as always, leave recommendations and add ideas!

Hey Stupid, I Love You by JP Saxe - Listen, this song is so perfect. Someone sent me an ask about it once so I gave it a listen and it fits so well! They’re both so stupid. “hE cAnT cArE aBoUt mE hE hAtEs mE”

Heather by Conan Gray - This one is a bit angstier. Alexander about Thomartha. Except, the last chorus. Thomas kisses him and all Alexander can react with is shock. He thinks it’s a prank or a sick joke, so he gets mad. “Why would you ever kiss me? I’m not even half as pretty!” (Please,,, don’t steal this idea I’m writing it :( )

Overwhelming by Jon Bellion - This is such a good song. I’m thinking first verse from Thomas’ perspective and the second from Alexander’s. The rest is up to you. It has some amazing lines like, “there is a potion in your lips, so sweet, I’d die.” And, “there is an ocean in your hips so deep I’d die.” It’s such an amazing song, go listen to Jon Bellion, I love him.

Boys Will Be Bugs by Cavetown - There’s a lot of cavetown songs on this list so bare with me. Thomas has fragile masculinity and my mind can’t be changed. Also I like applying Thomas to cavetown songs sorry not sorry. “If you wanna cry make sure that they never see it, or even better yet, block it out and never feel it.” Mmm, just sayin’.

Sweet Tooth by Cavetown - I don’t really have an explanation for this other than it’s a good song and it inspires a lot of Jamilton within me.

Telescope by Cavetown - Same as last time, it gives me motivation to write Jamilton. Mostly Jefferson angst, not gonna lie

IV. Sweatpants by Childish Gambino - LiSten this song is so perfect for Thomas. “Rich kid asshole, paint me as a villain.” B U T after the line “I don’t give a fuck about my family name!” The song changes for a few seconds before it goes back to normal and I think that’s an excellent opportunity to slip in TJ angst.

Affluenza by Conan Gray - Mm, angst? I think so. This time I say we add some Lafayette and Madison since they were both rich too. I just think this would be nice to see Alexander helping Thomas find some motivation again.

HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON’T by Fall Out Boy - It’s just a go to song for ships! It’s cute okay–

bad idea! by girl in red - They probably think sleeping with their rival is a bad idea. But that won’t stop them! Anyway, I feel like the first verse/chorus is from Alexander’s P.O.V, and the second verse/chorus from Thomas’s P.O.V, the rest could be shared or split up however you’d like.

Peach Scone by Hobo Johnson - First of all, this song slaps. It’s so good. Its unique and I love it. Also, its totally from Thomas’ perspective. He’s helping Alexander with his relationship with Eliza and pretending he doesnt have the biggest fucking crush on him.

Hot Fuck No Love by clipping.- Listen its sung by clipping. Daveed fucking sings this. You know I had to.

Dazzle by Oh Wonder - Thomas trying to impress Alexander. And Alexander being, “haha yeah you cute but also you don’t know what you’re doing with your life."

Sunshine Riptide by Fall Out Boy and Burna Boy - It fits well. A lot of FØB songs do. I get a lot of inspiration from this.

Backyard Boy by Claire Rosinkranz - High School AU. S,,soft,,,, they’re happy together. But also this could be angsty, like at the end. Turn it into a bittersweet ending.

Drinking Alone by Carrie Underwood - Thomas is sad and at a bar, Alexander tries to make conversation. They get drunk and hook up? I think so!

Beautiful Trauma by P!nk - Unstable relationship? I think so. Also the music video? Just saying… this could easily be Jamilmads too. P!nk being Alexander. Thomas being the husband. Listen I’m just s a y in g

Shallow by Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper - I just find this song so sweet and Jamilton deserves to be sweet sometimes okay.

Lemon Boy by Cavetown - Alexander being the metaphorical Lemon Boy. Everytime Thomas tries to get rid of him be appears again until he learns to live with (and eventually love) him.

Can’t Help Falling In Love by Twenty One Pilots - The cover of the Elvis Presley one because this one is a little more fast paced and that fits Jamilton better.

Sex With A Ghost by Teddy Hyde - Listen, after the duel. Thomas is trying to forget about Alexander but swears he keeps seeing him in the mirror and- hang on a second, where did those hickies come from?

Sweet Hibiscus Tea by Penelope Scott - I get many Jamilton ideas from this song, certain lines. “I am not your protagonist, I’m not even my own,” I’m just saying, I’m feeling some Jamilton in this song.

How To Be A Heartbreaker by MARINA - I can’t believe this wasn’t on the playlist until now! Picture it, Thomas gets rejected (you can decide who rejected him, I like to think it was Angelica, but this also works with him being rejected multiple times) and it hits a little hard. He decides from there on to stick to the heart-breaker role, and do onto others as was done onto him. Hence, leading Alexander on.

Hatef–k by The Bravery - I found this song recently and I fell in love. It’s so damn good, and it fits Jamilton to a T. Enemies to lovers hookup that leads to feelings? Yes.

prom dress by mxmtoon - I’m not sure why I saved this one, it just feels angsty. Alexander’s date ditching him at prom and crying in the bathroom when Thomas walks in, they talk it out and hang out together at prom. Mmm.

Devil Town by Cavetown - “Mom and daddy aren’t in love, that’s fine, I’ll settle for two birthdays” both of them! I really love applying cavetown songs to Thomas (and Alexander)

Choke by I DON’T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME - Jamilton but while they’re still enemies. The song sounds so upbeat but the lyrics are like… homicidal and I think that’s pretty perfect.

Strawberries & Cigarettes by Troye Sivan - Them…….. being cute. I always think that this could be a nice high school AU, with them in senior year.

Can’t Sleep Love by Pentatonix - The two of them kind of start dating, but it’s never official. They can’t seem to sleep without the other being there. The very last “can’t sleep love” is Thomas finally messaging Alexander that he ‘can’t sleep’ and the last “yeah!” is Alexander responding that he’ll come over.

#hamilton #hamilton: an american musical #Alexander Hamilton #Thomas Jefferson #jamilton #ee talks #ee talks about ships for way too long #ee's writing #sobs #this took so long #i typed this out THREE FUCKING TIMES